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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27716830">There'll Be Peace When You Are Done</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/diaryofageekgirl/pseuds/diaryofageekgirl'>diaryofageekgirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Carry On [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Episode AU: s15e20 Carry On, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Fuck the CW, M/M, Multi, all my homies hate the cw, or at least they will live</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:15:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>35,434</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27716830</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/diaryofageekgirl/pseuds/diaryofageekgirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow, in the middle of severing vamp necks in the dead of night in a run-down barn in Ohio, Dean had a revelation.</p><p>Or: nothing stays dead on Supernatural.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak, Michael/Adam Milligan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Carry On [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136519</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>313</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. On A Stormy Sea Of Moving Emotion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my attempt at fixing the dumpster fire that was 15x20. I don't know how quickly/frequently I'll be able to update this, but I do have the entire thing planned out.</p><p>Also, I started writing this right after the episode aired last Thursday, so the revelations that came with the Spanish dub of 15x18 last night were not taken into consideration while writing this. I had also put too much work into it thus far to want to go back and change it.</p><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Somehow, in the middle of severing vamp necks in the dead of night in a run-down barn in Ohio, Dean had a revelation.</p><p>Or maybe revelation wasn’t the word for it; revelation implied that the idea came out of nowhere, suggested that the concepts and preconceived notions in your mind became rearranged until they slotted neatly into place with this sudden new thought. But that’s not what happened there.</p><p>What happened was a long time coming. Slowly, gently, waiting until Dean was ready for it before coalescing as a concrete thought in his mind.</p><p>Even while he was chattering inanely at Jenny (Jenny? Holy shit, <em>that </em>was a long time ago), stalling for time for Sammy to grab his machete, even while the two of them finished off the rest of the vamps, and even while they cleaned off their blades and disposed of the bodies, his mind was preoccupied.</p><p>And really, it should have been obvious – hell, it <em>was </em>obvious, but Dean had never bothered to entertain the thought before. Except that was also a lie; he’d entertained the thought plenty, he just pushed it down and buried it under alcohol and sarcasm and every other shitty coping mechanism he ever used.</p><p>It stayed in the little box in his heart that so much else stayed in, locked and chained and soldered shut and submerged in concrete. But someone had taken a silvery spike to the concrete, had used their incredible strength to rip apart the soldering and the chains, and had softly given him the key to the lock.</p><p>He watched as Sam helped the two boys into the back of the Impala, wrapping them in blankets and talking to them in soft tones. He felt a familiar feeling bubbling up, but instead of brushing it aside or burying it in snark, he decided to let it be for once.</p><p>Sam walked back up to him, machete held loosely in one hand.</p><p>“They’re still pretty shook up – obviously,” he said, with a little shake of his head and a quirk of his eyebrows. “I already called the sheriff’s office, they’re gonna take care of them overnight while their mom’s in the hospital. They’re, uh, gonna look into finding some family member they can stay with while she recovers.”</p><p>Dean hummed absently to let Sam know he was listening. It was good that all of that would be taken care of, and he was glad that the two boys survived and would have at least some family to go home to. His mind was still stuck in the loop that it had been all night. Sam, of course, knew him too well and noticed his somewhat dazed state immediately.</p><p>“Dean?”</p><p>He slowly let his eyes refocus from where he’d been absently staring at a zipper on Sam’s jacket and caught a face full of Concerned Sam Expression.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m good,” he said, stretching his arms up over his head until his spine popped. “Let’s get these two back to civilization.”</p><p>He could wait to talk about it; not like he waited in the past, where he tamped it down under layers of self-loathing and the quieter but still ever-present voice of his father barking at him to not be a sissy. No, now he was only waiting to get these kids to someone else who can look after them and maybe a chance to get his jumbled thoughts in order before trying to talk about them.</p><p>He walked back over to the Impala and slid in behind the wheel, Sam following on the passenger side moments later. He craned his neck around to address the kids in the backseat, tell them they’d be alright and that they’d be going home soon. Instead, he found them fast asleep, piled up against each other. One of them had his fist clenched tightly on the other’s sleeve.</p><p>Dean felt a soft smile curl onto his face. He caught Sam’s eye as he turned back around and received a matching smile from him. He turned his attention back to the car, turning the ignition and hearing Baby’s engine rumbling to life below them like a lullaby.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>I'm alone, yeah, I don't know if I can face the night<br/>
I'm in tears and the cryin' that I do is for you<br/>
I want your love<br/>
Let's break the walls between us<br/>
Don't make it tough<br/>
I'll put away my pride<br/>
Enough's enough<br/>
I've suffered and I've seen the light</em>
</p><p>Dean threw his hand out and slapped around on the table top, blindly searching for his phone as his alarm blared. After a few more seconds of Steven Tyler’s vocals ringing out of the speakers he found it, jabbing his thumb at the screen to turn it off.</p><p>He rolled over onto his back and groaned, sore and still kind of tired. It had been a long night sorting things out at the police station, but the kids were off with their aunts and their mom was stable in the hospital. Dean’d take the achy muscles as a sign of a job well done.</p><p>He groaned again as he sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. He glanced over at the other bed through bleary eyes. It was empty, which meant Sam was probably out for his morning run.</p><p>Dean yawned deep and loud. He scratched at his chest and swung his legs over the side of the bed.</p><p>He puttered around the room for a while, slow and still half asleep. He mechanically folded his old clothes, mostly on autopilot as he packed up to get ready to leave town.</p><p>He had just finished grabbing his stuff from the bathroom when the motel room door creaked open and Sam spilled through, sweaty and out of breath from his run. Dean wrinkled his nose at him.</p><p>“Go take a shower, dude, you reek.”</p><p>Sam just laughed and chucked his gross, sweaty jacket at him, laughing even harder at Dean’s sputtering as the offending garment hit him in the face. Dean growled and took a swipe at him, but Sam danced out of the way, cackling like an asshole and slamming the bathroom door shut behind him.</p><p>“Bitch!”</p><p>“Jerk,” Sam yelled back, muffled through the door. Dean pulled the jacket off his head and threw it onto Sam’s bed with a grimace. Let him deal with his own shit.</p><p>Half an hour later, the Impala was roaring down the highway,  Led Zeppelin blaring from her speakers, and windows rolled down to let the fresh spring air in. In a rare twist of fate, Sam was driving. Mostly because Dean was barely awake when they left, and only just starting to perk up now, as he was nursing his third cup of shitty take-out coffee on the passenger side.</p><p>He reached out and turned the music down. He heard a confused noise come from Sam – which, to be fair, he <em>did </em>just willingly turn down Zepp – but he didn’t turn to look at him. He took a deep breath.</p><p>“Hey, Sammy?”</p><p>Sam glanced at him from the corner of his eye. His brows furrowed, confused, or maybe concerned.</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“I’m proud of you.”</p><p>Sam snorted. “I know you hate giving me the keys, but I <em>have </em>driven a car before. You don’t have to be a dick about it every time.”</p><p>“What? Dude, no, I’m being serious.”</p><p>The same furrowed brows returned. “About what?”</p><p>“For fuck’s –” Dean cut himself off, dragging a hand over his face, left it lingering over his mouth as he turned to stare out the window. Somehow, his brother was both the most and least emotionally intuitive person in the universe. At the same time.</p><p>“I’m proud of you. For – for everything, really. How smart you are. How you always try to find the best solution to a problem, usually something so off-the-wall that no one else would ever think of it, and it almost always works. I’m proud of how much you love learning, how you always want to be better than you are, even though you’re already pretty much the best.</p><p>“I’m proud of how strong you are – how you never put up with anyone’s shit, least of all mine. How you always stood up to Dad. You know I wanted to do that? Every time you two’d fight, and every damn day we hunted together while you were at school, but I couldn’t do it. I was too worried about what he’d think of me. But you – you never let him push you around. I never knew how you did that.</p><p>“I’m proud of how good of a hunter you are, but even more than that, I’m proud of the leader you’ve become. The hunters from Apocalypse World, the new network you’ve worked on setting up… I think about it every day when we get a call from someone about a case, or looking for lore, that you’ve made this whole system almost single-handedly.</p><p>“But mostly? I’m proud of how kind and compassionate you are. How much shit we’ve seen, how much shit you’ve been through in particular, and you’re still so… so <em>good</em>. I wish I was half as good as you are.”</p><p>Dean exhaled roughly, his breath shaky. He hadn’t really meant to ramble on like that, but once he started talking he just kept going. But he was… okay? He figured he’d be freaking out right about now, fumbling to keep everything locked away and silent as he always had before, but he was actually pretty calm about it. Even though he’d been speaking around a lump in his throat for about half of that whole spiel.</p><p>The car drifted over onto the shoulder and slowly rolled to a stop. That, finally, made Dean turn to look over at Sam and see his reaction. He watched as Sam half-turned in the seat, head turned towards him but not meeting his gaze just yet. His brows were drawn so tightly together they looked like one unit, and his eyes flicked back and forth across the dashboard, thinking. He watched as Sam drew a deep breath, exhaled, then looked up at Dean, concern radiating from every line of his face.</p><p>“Dean, what <em>exactly </em>brought this on? Because it’s really sounding like you, you made some kind of deal, which I don’t know how you managed since we only just <em>defeated God</em> –”</p><p>“I didn’t make any deal! What, I can’t just tell you how I feel?”</p><p>“You never have before. Only when one of us is about to die.”</p><p>And that hurt like a kick to the chest, like a knife to the heart, because Sam wasn’t wrong, not really. They’d never put it out on the table like that, unless they knew they weren’t going to be around to deal with the fallout.</p><p>And for what? So that the other wouldn’t call them a girl? They knew so many badass ladies, hunters and witches and just about anything else who were so fucking strong – not to mention that thinking that being emotional was both feminine and weak was something that they had outgrown. So that they wouldn’t call them gay? <em>That</em> ship had sailed a long time ago. So that they wouldn’t be vulnerable? God knows they’d both broken the world for each other, unleashed awesomely powerful beings because they couldn’t bear losing each other, it’s not as if saying it out loud would somehow make that worse.</p><p>
  <em>Happiness isn't in the having, it's in just being. It's in just saying it.</em>
</p><p>A hand clapped down on his shoulder, jolting Dean from his thoughts. His eyes refocused from where they had been staring into the middle distance. Sam’s expression had gone from concerned to almost scared.</p><p>“Dean, you’re kind of freaking me out right now.” Sam’s voice was tight as he failed pretty spectacularly at hiding just how freaked out he was. He paused, squinting at Dean. “Are- are you crying?”</p><p>Dean’s eyes slid away from Sam’s face and went back to staring into space. Almost in a fugue state he brought a hand up to his cheek, stared at it in surprise and confusion when it came away wet. He was still staring at it when Sam sighed, sounding tired and resigned and nervous all at once.</p><p>“What brought this on?”</p><p>Somehow, Sam was still so patient and compassionate, even while Dean was having a bit of a breakdown. Honestly, he was a little surprised it took this long to happen, considering the events of the last couple of weeks. He swallowed down the tears and the lump in his throat, tried to take a couple of deep breaths to steady himself but they still came wobbly.</p><p>“It was, uh – it was something that Cas said.” And why, after all of that, why was it that he still struggled to speak? Why was it that the words that flowed so easily before now got lodged somewhere between his heart and his throat?</p><p>“Are you gonna tell me what happened? What <em>actually </em>happened,” Sam said, a hand raised to cut Dean off as he tried to interject, “I know you told us that Cas summoned the Empty to stop Billie and it took him too, but…” He paused, swallowed. “You haven’t been okay since then. And I know he was your best friend, but you watched him die in front of you, then you were clearly holding back from telling me and Jack everything, you were bargaining with Chuck to bring him back, and then, just, nothing. Acted like nothing happened.”</p><p>Dean nodded, just a little bob of the head. “Yeah, I know.” He swallowed again – and if the damn lump could just stay out of his throat for a while, that’d be great – and tried to figure out how to explain everything to Sam, considering he wasn’t even sure he had all of the information himself.</p><p>“Cas… when Jack died, last year, Cas made a deal with the Empty. Traded his life for Jack’s. The Empty accepted, but instead of killing him then, said that it’d come for him when he ‘experienced a moment of true happiness’.” Another deep breath to steady himself. “He used that to summon the Empty when Billie was hunting us down, used it to get it to take her too.</p><p>“He… he told me that the one thing he wanted, the one thing that would make him happy, was something he couldn’t have. Said, uh, said a lot of stuff about me, about how all the shit I think about myself is wrong, about how I always did what I did for – for love, how I changed him, made him care about the world and people and everything.”</p><p>Even though they weren’t moving, Dean was still insanely glad Sam was behind the wheel at that moment, while he stared down at his lap with a death grip around the empty cardboard coffee cup to keep his hands from shaking. This time, he was aware of his tears as they slipped down his cheeks as he remembered the last time Cas spoke to him.</p><p>“He told me he loved me. He – he told me he loved me, and I, I had no idea about any of that. I didn’t know he felt that way, I didn’t know he <em>could </em>feel that way, and I just,” he swallowed roughly, fighting through the tears, “I don’t want to leave anything unsaid anymore. I don’t want to just, treat anything as a given, not after that.”</p><p>He felt Sam’s hand move from his left shoulder – and he could almost <em>feel </em>Cas’ handprint there, seared into his skin and painted in blood – to wrap around to his other shoulder. In between breaths he was crushed into a hug by his giant of a brother, and that’s all that it took to ruin any semblance of control he still had. His own arms came up to wrap around Sam in return, and he sobbed, heartbroken and sick with grief.</p><p>Dean wasn’t sure how long they sat there, how long his little brother, who he was always supposed to protect and keep safe from pain and hate and darkness watched him crumble. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours. However long it was, it was enough for his tears to dry up, for his sobs to turn to painful hiccoughs. He had fallen quiet, but Sam didn’t pull away, so he didn’t either.</p><p>“Hey Sammy?” His voice was muffled into Sam’s shoulder.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“I love you. I know I’ve only said it, like, once,” when he was planning on dying, when Sam was doing everything in his power to keep him from dying, “but I mean it. I don’t want you ever thinking that I don’t.”</p><p>He felt Sam’s shoulders shake, heard a shaky, wet laugh from above him.</p><p>“I love you too, Dean.”</p><p>Dean managed a weak chuckle and slowly pulled away. He scrubbed at his face, trying to hide any remnants of his tears. He knew the effort was futile; he still felt the tightness in his throat, the soreness in his eyes. He smacked Sam on the shoulder gently and waved his hand towards the wheel.</p><p>“C’mon, we’ve still got another fourteen hours ‘til home, and we’ve wasted enough time on my sorry ass.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” Sam asked, already sliding back across the bench to sit behind the wheel again. “You don’t want to have another chick-flick moment?”</p><p>“Shuddup,” Dean groaned and shoved Sam in the shoulder; he was grinning, though, and even though he felt drained from all the crying, he also felt lighter than he had in years. Sam just laughed, uproariously, and a moment later the Impala’s engine rumbled to life once more.</p>
<hr/><p>They stopped for lunch in Indianapolis, after which Dean demanded to be back behind the wheel. The Impala soared down I-72, the music was turned back up to ear-bleeding levels, and Sam was texting furiously in the passenger side.</p><p>Dean tipped his head back and gave the phone a side-eye, trying to sneak a peek. Of course, given that the two of them had grown up in each other’s back pocket meant that they had a sixth sense for when the other was fucking with them, and Sam tipped his phone towards his chest and turned it off.</p><p>Which was fine; it wasn’t like Dean actually needed to see the conversation to know who Sam was talking to.</p><p>“How’s Eileen?”</p><p>He fought down a smug grin as Sam’s head snapped up, his eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. His mouth flapped wordlessly for a couple of seconds before he managed to find his voice.</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p><p>Dean chuckled and shook his head fondly. Even after thirty-seven years and defeating God himself, some things never change.</p><p>“Sammy, you’re my brother and I love you, but you’re the worst liar I’ve ever seen,” Dean drawled. Sam spluttered indignantly, trying to make some kind of defense for himself out of the half-formed words falling out of his mouth. Dean decided to put the poor guy out of his misery. “Listen, you can say whatever you want, claim that I don’t know shit, but I <em>do </em>know that I haven’t seen you smile like that in years. Probably over a decade. And I know that no one makes you as happy as she does.”</p><p>The inside of the car grew quiet. Dean kept silent; he figured that if Sam wanted to talk about it he would, and if he didn’t, then Dean wouldn’t force him to. After a couple of minutes, he chanced a glance out of the corner of his eye. He saw Sam biting his lip and turning his phone around in his hands, deep in thought.</p><p>“I’m being stupid about this, aren’t I?” Sam asked.</p><p>“I mean, yeah, probably.” Without even having to take his eyes off the road, Dean dodged out of the way as Sam swiped at his shoulder. He laughed, and laughed even harder when he caught sight of Sam’s bitchface.</p><p>“Jerk.”</p><p>“Bitch.”</p><p>Sam sighed and shook his head. “I know I’m overthinking it, but I just… Every time I’ve tried this before, it’s ended bad. Whoever I’m with ends up dead, or evil, or-or both, and I just.” He cut himself off and took a deep breath. “I know she can handle herself, but I don’t know if I can handle all of –” he waved his hand vaguely through the air – “this again. I’ve already lost her – twice – and I’m. I’m scared.”</p><p>Dean turned Sam’s words over in his head. “Okay. Hear me out for a second, okay? Because I get what you’re saying, but just – consider the fact that Chuck? Is gone. He doesn’t control anything anymore. Everyone we’ve lost, everyone <em>you’ve </em>lost, was because of him, directly or otherwise.”</p><p>“You don’t know that.”</p><p>“No, I don’t,” Dean acknowledged with a tip of his head, “not for sure. But with him and pretty much every other massive cosmic force out of the picture, it can’t possibly be worse than any of the previous times, can it? You’ve found someone who makes you happy, who gets the life we live, and who, might I add, is a total badass.” He heard Sam laugh, just a slight chuckle and a fond grin from the corner of his eye, and took a moment to savour that before continuing. “Do you really want to pass that up?</p><p>“’Cause from where I’m sitting, there’s only two things I can think of that are holding you back: one, you don’t want to jump in and be all cutesy and saccharine and romantic with Eileen, ‘cause you feel like you’d be rubbing it in now that I’ve lost Cas.” It was still a little bizarre how easy it was to say that, how simple it was to put to words what had been between them for so long that neither of them had dared to acknowledge. He saw Sam shuffle awkwardly in his seat as he spoke, caught red-handed. “And I appreciate it, but you’re also a dumbass. Don’t make yourself miserable just because I’m … not at my happiest.”</p><p>Dean ignored Sam’s truly unimpressed look at the obvious lie and barrelled forward. “And two, is that you don’t think she feels the same way. Because Chuck was manipulating her, manipulating the whole situation you two were in, so you’re worried that even though you want to be with her, she doesn’t actually reciprocate, and that she’s still messed up from Chuck using her. And my answer to that is, the only way to know is if you ask her.”</p><p>Dean had expected a couple of different possible reactions from Sam; silence, continuing to stubbornly argue with him, maybe crying. He certainly hadn’t expected an incredulous laugh to bubble up from the passenger side. He shot him a confused look.</p><p>Sam shook his head, grinning. He held up his phone – not so that Dean could read it, necessarily, but more to indicate that Eileen had still been talking at the same time that Dean had.</p><p>“Turns out you two think a lot alike,” Sam said, a little dazed.</p><p>Dean eased off onto the shoulder to take a closer look at the most recent messages Eileen had sent.</p><p><em>I appreciate the concern, but I’m a big girl. I can handle myself. </em>💪<em><br/>
</em></p><p>
  <em>You said Chuck’s been gone for a couple of weeks now?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If that’s the case, then I know how I feel.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Also, where the hell are you guys? I’m outside the Bunker but no one’s answering the door.</em>
</p><p><em>Did you up and go on a hunt without me??? </em>😤<em><br/>
</em></p><p>Dean tipped his head back and cackled. Sam snatched his phone back out of his grasp and actually succeeded in punching him in the shoulder this time. Dean was still grinning as he pulled the Impala back onto the road and revved the gas.</p><p>“Better let her know we’re on our way. We’ve still got –” he glanced at his watch, “– another nine hours to go before we reach Lebanon.”</p>
<hr/><p>Eight and a half hours later, the Impala trundled along the path leading to the Bunker’s garage. Up by the doors was Eileen’s bright red Plymouth Valiant, with Eileen herself leaning up against the driver side door. She looked up as the Impala’s headlights washed over her and the surrounding area. Even from there, Dean could see her smile.</p><p>He pulled the Impala up to the garage doors and put her in park, her engine reduced to a low rumble as she idled. He and Sam got out; he could have gone to unlock the door right away, but he kind of wanted to see how this was going to play out. He raised a hand in a wave and leaned against the front of his Baby.</p><p>“Hey Eileen,” he called.</p><p>“Hi Dean,” she said back, her attention only on him for a fraction of a second before turning to face his brother. “Sam.”</p><p>Sam walked slowly towards her and stopped, in the No Man’s Land halfway between their cars.</p><p>“Eileen.” Even from his vantage point Dean could hear Sam audibly swallow down his nerves. “It’s good to see you,” he said, and brought his right hand up to trace a circle on his chest. His hand came up to his face, with his index and middle fingers in a V-shape; he touched his middle finger to the corner of his eye, then turned his wrist to point at Eileen.</p><p>Eileen’s smile got somehow even wider, and she pushed herself up off of her car and marched towards Sam. As she walked, she spoke to him.</p><p>“By the way, Sam?”</p><p>She stopped in front of him.</p><p>“I know this is real.”</p><p>With that, she brought both of her hands to the sides of his face, stood up on her tip-toes, and kissed him, deep and sure. Dean couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he watched them, watched Sam practically melt into her arms. After a long moment, they separated but stayed close to one another. Another long moment of silence, then Sam cleared his throat awkwardly.</p><p>“Uh, right, you probably wanna get inside, huh?” He did some weird little move to spin around her and fished the garage keys out of his pocket. “I’ll just go, uh, go open things up.” He half-walked and half-ran over to the doors; even in the darkness of the middle of the night, Dean could tell his face was bright red. He grinned, and saw a matching expression on Eileen’s face.</p><p>He eased himself up off of the Impala and walked up to Eileen. He gently put a hand on her shoulder to draw her attention to him. She turned to face him with a questioning look on her face.</p><p>Dean brought his right hand up, placed his fingertips on top of his chin, then brought his hand down to gesture to her.</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>Eileen smiled again, her expression achingly fond. She placed her hand on his upper arm, not quite on his shoulder.</p><p>“Sam told me what happened. We’ll get him back.”</p><p>He could hardly argue with that kind of confidence. And after seeing her and Sam together, Dean’s heart ached. He wanted that kind of happiness for himself, but just as much, he wanted it for Cas.</p><p>“Yeah, we will.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Let me know what you think of this so far! Also, come say hi on tumblr - I'm diaryofageekgirl there as well!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I Set A Course For Winds Of Fortune</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well, this one got away from me. Didn't expect it to end up being <em><strong>nine thousand four hundred words.</strong></em> I could have split it into two chapters, but I wanted to keep all of this together. Somehow, I get the feeling that no one's going to complain about a super-long chapter...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A routine was established fairly quickly at the Bunker: Sam and Eileen went for runs together in the mornings, with breakfast prepared by Dean by the time they got back. Most days were spent researching the Empty and angels, trying to figure out a way to bring Cas back. Evenings – well, Sam wasn’t sure how Dean spent his evenings, but he and Eileen tended to have semi-unofficial date nights, most of which consisted of watching TV shows and movies together, pouring over lore together and, on one memorable occasion, a reprisal of their Back-From-The-Dead celebratory brunch, except at midnight.</p><p>They also managed to find the time to fit another hunt in amongst their furious researching. About two weeks into their new normal, an acquaintance of Donna’s tipped them off about a pair of werewolves in Austin, Texas. Everyone had been fairly nose-to-the-grindstone with research, which in turn had made everyone desperate to get out and do something active and dangerous as opposed to staying stuck in the library all day.</p><p>Yes, even Sam.</p><p>The three of them had… well, not “argued”, necessarily. There had been no raised voices, no accusations or barbed words, but everyone had been tense and stubborn as all hell. Dean had immediately called dibs on going, and they had all agreed that they didn’t need all three of them on a routine werewolf hunt. Not to mention none of them really wanted to just completely halt their research of the Empty.</p><p>That, of course, left him and Eileen. Sam knew, intellectually, that Eileen was a completely capable hunter, and he also knew that if something <em>were </em>to happen to her, that Dean was more than capable of getting them both out of there. That didn’t make him any more comfortable with the idea of her going off on a hunt so soon after being resurrected – for the second time.</p><p>He and Eileen… “discussed”…  which one of them would be going with Dean to Texas. Sam said that she was still getting back on her feet after being dusted by Chuck, Eileen told him that she would know that better than he would. He said that he and Dean worked better together, she said that this was her chance to get to know his brother better – she <em>was </em>part of the family now.</p><p>That thought stopped him dead in his tracks. God, but she <em>was </em>part of their family now. Their weird, tiny, broken little family. And that felt like a blade of ice right to the heart, because that was the problem, wasn’t it? Everyone in their family ended up dead, or gone, or dead and gone. Of course she was a great hunter, and of course she could handle a couple of werewolves, but just because he knew that didn’t mean that his fear disappeared.</p><p>And of course Sam knew he was afraid of that – he had said as much to Dean, after all – but it was one thing to know what you’re afraid of and another thing entirely to actually have to face it. He couldn’t get the thought out of his head, of seeing Eileen’s body on the morgue gurney three years ago after being ripped apart by hellhounds. Sitting in silence in the passenger side of the Impala as her texts stopped coming. If she left his sight again, would she come back?</p><p>Some inkling of his inner turmoil must have shown on his face, because somewhere in the middle of his mini crisis, Eileen had walked up to him and placed one hand on his arm and cupped his cheek with the other.</p><p>“Sam,” she said. Nothing else but his name. Maybe there was something more that she wanted to say, but in that moment it didn’t matter. In a desperate burst, Sam wrapped his arms around her and held her tight to his chest, his hands fanned across her shoulder blades like wings. He knew she was strong, she was <em>so </em>strong, but she made him weak.</p><p>Sam wasn’t sure how long they stood there like that; after a moment or two of surprise, Eileen brought her arms up around him in turn. He slowly dragged one hand from her shoulder to the back of her head to cradle it. He wrapped his fingers in her hair and dropped his chin so that his nose rested on the top of her head. He breathed deep, shaky with emotion.</p><p>He pulled back after a while, but not away; just far enough so that he could rest their foreheads together and so that she could see his hands. The one stayed nestled in her hair, but the other, his right, formed a fist against his chest. He moved it in a clockwise circle, then another, and another, and another, and another.</p><p><em>I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry</em>.</p><p>Sam felt one of Eileen’s hands gently cover his, stopping it in its spiral of shame. She slowly pulled his fist away from his chest, turning his hand to face her, held upright. She tenderly pried his fingers from their guilt-tense grip.</p><p>Well, some of his fingers. His index, pinkie, and thumb, to be exact. In the single moment that he let himself look, he saw that she made the same sign with her own hand back at him. A dry sob wrenched out of his throat, and he buried his face in her hair again.</p><p>He didn’t move his hand. It was true, after all, and they both knew it.</p>
<hr/><p>That had been two days ago. Sam and Eileen had been texting pretty much constantly since she and Dean headed out. Sam knew he was being kind of clingy, but it was only in part due to his worry for her. The other part was just that he genuinely loved talking with her and wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.</p><p>He struggled with it a bit; he had to keep reminding himself that she needed time to actually receive the message, figure out what to say back, type her response, and then the message had to get back to him. Every second of seeing the dots bouncing in the reply bubble under her name was a whole new kind of torture. The biggest thing, he learned, was making sure she had the last word when they went to bed – which he learned the hard way the first night, when he texted her something after she had fallen asleep and then spent the whole night quietly working himself into a panic when she didn’t respond.</p><p>He…may have sent a few additional texts after that. More than a few. A couple dozen. Which Eileen, of course, responded to with the appropriate levels of both sympathy and snark, once she had woken up the next morning and actually got a chance to see them.</p><p>Now, Sam poured through the lore, tomes and grimoires scattered across the tables of the library. Miracle sat curled in a ball on the chair next to him with his head on Sam’s lap. Sam used one hand to flip through the books and take notes, since the other was preoccupied with ear scratches.</p><p>He groaned and dropped the book he was currently slogging through onto the table. A few of the pages flipped over to cover his current page, but it didn’t matter. He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed at his eyes.</p><p>Sam loved research. He didn’t just appreciate the knowledge and stories that he learned from it, though that was a not-insignificant part of it. He also loved the overall process; diving into old manuscripts of barely-legible handwriting, cross-referencing conflicting information between two different authors and trying to figure out which was closer to the truth, picking out the facts of the lore from the fiction of old wives’ tales.</p><p>At least, that was the case when there <em>was </em>lore to work from. The biggest problem they were facing was that angels had rarely walked the Earth until about a decade ago, and demons were rarely actually killed, and more often exorcised. Nobody knew enough actual, factual information about what happened to them after they died. Not to mention the utter dearth of knowledge surrounding the Entity that was the Empty.</p><p>Sam groaned again and rolled out his shoulders and neck; he heard a couple of soft cracks and pops as his bones shifted and the tension bled out from his muscles. He stared down at the book, exhausted and frustrated. He pushed back from the table and slowly stood, groaning once again as he popped his spine. It was about time for lunch anyways, and his stomach loudly reminded him that he hadn’t had much to eat yet that day. Miracle’s ears perked up at the sound and he jumped down from the chair and hurried off in the direction of the kitchen, Sam’s chuckles chasing him down the hall.</p><p>As Sam shuffled to the kitchen, he turned over what little they did know about the Empty in his mind. They knew that it was an ancient entity, and that it was both the being and the realm it ruled over. They knew that that was where angels and demons were sent when they died. They also happened to know of two people who had gone to the Empty and come back again.</p><p>Sam started pulling food off of shelves and out of the fridge. They hadn’t gotten groceries in a while, and with Eileen being here they’d need even more than they usually got. They probably needed to stock up on food for Miracle while they were at it. At least there was enough for him for the next couple of days until Dean and Eileen got back. He put together a couple of sandwiches and a salad on autopilot, and poured out a bowl of kibble for Miracle, as he continued to ruminate over the Empty.</p><p>Of course, of the two people they knew who had been to the Empty before, Cas was currently trapped in the Empty and Jack was… well, he was off being God somewhere. They weren’t able to pick their brains for information on the entity. Neither of them had told him and Dean much, either, and while Sam fully understood the need for space and time following getting trapped in and subsequently rescued from an unpleasant afterlife, it was proving incredibly frustrating.</p><p>All he did know for sure was that the Empty wanted sleep. It kept the angels and demons trapped there asleep, so that they would be quiet so that <em>it </em>could sleep. He leaned against the kitchen counter as he ate, chewing thoughtfully.</p><p>He also knew that Jack had been brought back from the Empty by Billie, and that Cas had been brought back by Jack. Did that mean that only an entity as powerful as an arch-nephil or Death could bring someone back? He took another bite.</p><p>Or was that just happenstance? Could anyone bring someone back from the Empty? He remembered Cas saying that Jack “woke him up” when he had been there a couple of years ago. Was that all it took, or was there more to it? There was probably more to it – an incredibly powerful cosmic entity wouldn’t be that easy to overcome. As they all knew too well at that point.</p><p>Sam started on the second sandwich. If they needed another powerful entity, then Jack would certainly help them if he was able to. Which, of course, was the biggest uncertainty; neither he nor Dean had heard or seen anything of Jack since they defeated Chuck. He suddenly remembered Cas saying that the Empty had mentioned that God had no power in the Empty. If that was the case, then Jack may not even be able to help them, regardless of if he was available to do so.</p><p>Sam stared down at the half-eaten sandwich in his hand; he was suddenly much less hungry than he had been a moment ago.</p><p>A loud pounding came from the Bunker’s door. Sam jerked his head up and dropped his sandwich as he was startled out of his reverie. He spun his head around towards the direction of the door, then back in front of him to check his phone. Eileen had said that she and Dean had only just finished talking with the witnesses and police last night – they wouldn’t be back already, would they? Sure enough, there were no new messages from either her or Dean.</p><p>Another series of loud pounds rang out, knocking against the Bunker door. Miracle took off towards the door, barking at the unfamiliar sound. Sam hurried down the hallways, stopping only for a brief detour to his room to grab his gun and the demon-killing knife. With one in each hand as he climbed the stairs, he approached the door and put his back up against the wall beside it. He glanced down at Miracle, who had positioned himself in front of the door, not yet growling but certainly alert. Carefully, he stretched his hand out to the doorknob; he took a breath to steady himself before he flung it open.</p><p>He blinked against the onslaught of late spring sunlight pouring in the doorway. A figure stepped into the Bunker as he was fighting off the spots in his vision. The figure closed the door behind them as they entered, and Sam was at last able to get a good look at them.</p><p>“Adam?”</p><p>It was him, alright – he had the same sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, and he wore the same clothes that Sam had last seen him in, but he carried himself differently. Before, he stood tall with his shoulders back, but here he was almost hunched in on himself, as if he was trying to make himself look smaller. Sam’s heart clenched as he was struck with the thought that this is what Adam looked like when they – no, not when they first met him. When they had met the ghoul masquerading as him. He actually looked like a nineteen year old, instead of an unfathomably old being in a nineteen-year-old body, as he did when Michael had taken him as a vessel.</p><p>“Hey, Sam.” He flashed Sam not quite a smile, but a tiny wry smirk that turned up one corner of his mouth. His eyes flicked over to the knife in Sam’s hand. “Not a ghoul this time, I promise.” Almost as if he read Sam’s mind.</p><p>And wasn’t it fucked up that either of them felt like they could joke about that. Miracle sniffed around Adam’s legs and his hands where they hung by his sides. He gave a little *<em>whuff* </em>and licked Adam’s fingers. Sam relaxed at the sight, and put the knife down on the chess table and tucked his gun into his waistband.</p><p>“No, yeah, I – I know.” He took another steadying breath. “Are you okay? Michael said you were gone, and we didn’t hear from you after what happened with Chuck, I wasn’t sure if…”</p><p>If Jack had been able to bring him back. If Chuck destroying Michael meant that Adam was doomed to stay dead. Adam’s smirk turned into a brittle, false smile, a mask plastered on to hide the pain. It was a testament to how fucked up their lives were that Sam could recognize it so quickly, after seeing it on Dean’s face as well as his own for most of their lives.</p><p>“I’m… well, I’m not injured or anything,” Adam replied. His avoidance of the actual question was glaringly obvious, and Sam hadn’t missed how he flinched earlier when he said Michael’s name. Adam rocked back on his heels, then bounced on the balls of his feet, looking every inch the awkward teenager that he should have had the chance to be. “Can, uh, can I come in?”</p><p>“Yeah! Yeah, of course,” Sam said, stepping aside and gesturing down the stairs. Adam nodded at him as he passed by; his hand trailed over the metal railing, his head spun to take in the Bunker.</p><p>“I didn’t really get to see much of this place the first time,” Adam said softly. “Archangels can see in more wavelengths of light than humans, and they can see magic. The warding was a little –” he waved a hand around, vaguely, “– overwhelming.”</p><p>Sam nodded. “I gotta say, I wasn’t really expecting you to show up here again. Last time you were here, it seemed like you didn’t really want to stick around.” As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Sam directed them towards the kitchen. Adam probably hadn’t had a decent meal in a good while.</p><p>“To be honest? I wasn’t expecting to be here either. One minute I was…” Adam came to a halt as his voice trailed off. His hands were clutched in front of him, right over left, and Sam watched as Adam worried his fingers against his knuckles, how his thumbs squeezed against each other and released. He leaned forward a bit and saw Adam’s gaze had gone distant.</p><p>“Adam?” He kept his voice soft, like he was talking to a wounded animal or a frightened witness. He watched Adam take a deep, shuddery breath and shake himself. He started walking again, but a little slower than before.</p><p>“It was like – it was nothingness. I’ve been in Heaven before” – he said, and Sam fought down the guilt that rose in his throat at those words – “but it wasn’t anything like that. There was nothing. I could still think, and I knew that something had happened, but it felt like no time had passed when I came back.”</p><p>He fell silent, and Sam took the opportunity to get him some food. They still had some cans of soup in the cupboards, and it was hard to go wrong with chicken noodle. For the next fifteen minutes or so, the only sounds in the kitchen were the can opener and the metallic *ping* of the stove element heating up. Once it was hot, Sam poured the soup out into a bowl and placed it and a spoon in front of Adam. He just stared at it for a moment. Slowly, he had a couple of spoonfuls.</p><p>“When I came back, I was in a church.” He swallowed roughly. “Saint Michael’s. There was no one else there. No one I could turn to. I have no family, no money, just the clothes on my back and over a millennium of memories.” He paused again and had another few spoonfuls of soup.</p><p>“How much do you remember from when I was in the Cage?” Sam asked, tentatively. Adam’s eyes flicked up to his.</p><p>“I remember.”</p><p>Sam walked over and sat down in the chair kitty-corner to Adam at the table. “I know we failed you. You didn’t deserve any of the suffering you’ve been through, this isn’t your life. But you’re our brother – that doesn’t have to mean anything to you if you don’t want it to, but it does to me.”</p><p>Again, Sam was the one taking a shaky breath to steady himself. His thumb dug into a well-worn groove on his opposite palm. “I tried to protect you. When I brought Lucifer back into the Cage, I didn’t mean to drag you and Michael with me. For the first couple of decades, they were both furious. They hated and loved each other still, but they hated me more than anything else. And I was okay with that, because I deserved it for letting Lucifer out in the first place, but I was also okay with it because it kept their attention away from you.”</p><p>He closed his eyes; he could still feel the roaring inferno of Michael’s grace, could still smell the burning of his own flesh as the flames tore at his chest and face, even while daggers of ice sliced in between his vertebrae. He knew that Michael had changed with Adam’s influence, but a part of him would never be able to forget that fiery rage.</p><p>“I… I remember that,” Adam said, his voice distant as he remembered the early years in the Cage. “Sometimes I forget that Michael was ever like that. It’s been so long that it was just the two of us. We only had each other in the Cage, we had to look out for each other, since no one else would.”</p><p>“Dean tried to get you out. He tried to bargain with Death, to get us both out of the cage, but Death made him chose one.”</p><p>“And he picked you,” Adam said drily. “Somehow I’m not surprised.” Sam huffed a humourless laugh and shook his head.</p><p>“It wasn’t that simple. Cas had tried to get me out of there before, but he only managed to get my body out. My soul was too wound up in… <em>his </em>grace. My body was running around on earth without a soul. No conscience, no moral compass. It… I… he was in the process of trying to kill our father figure while Dean was bargaining with Death. Kind of a more obvious problem,” he shrugged.</p><p>“You came back to the Cage. You spoke with Lucifer, and you left me there.” Adam didn’t even sound accusatory. He just sounded tired.</p><p>“I know, and we shouldn’t have. We – I believed when Lucifer told us that you were gone and Michael was insane. I don’t know why I did,” Sam said, a bitter chuckle slipping out alongside the words, “but it was wrong. I was wrong. We shouldn’t have listened to him, we should have tried to find you and get you out of there. I’m sorry, Adam.”</p><p>Adam held his gaze and searched his eyes with his own. After a long moment, he nodded, slowly but accepting. He turned back to his soup and kept eating, which Sam took as his cue to go back over to his own lunch. The two of them ate quietly; for his part, Sam didn’t want say something to break the tentative peace they had established.</p><p>Sam finished eating and started washing his used dishes. After a minute or two, he heard footsteps shuffle towards him. Adam put his dishes in the soapy water and grabbed a dish towel to dry the dishes that Sam had already washed.</p><p>“He’s dead, then? Chuck?” Adam asked softly. Sam glanced at him from the corner of his eye, but Adam kept his gaze on the plate he was drying.</p><p>“Not dead, no. Jack, uh, took his power from him. Chuck’s just an ordinary human now. He’ll grow old and die just like the rest of us, and no one will remember him.”</p><p>“And Michael?”</p><p>Sam sighed and ducked his head. “Michael… You need to know, Adam, that Chuck killed almost everyone on the planet. The only people left were me, Dean, and Jack. Michael had managed to keep himself hidden from Chuck since you two helped us the first time, but…” The bowl Sam was washing slipped from his hands back into the sudsy water. Sam stared down into the bubbles without really seeing them. “We all lost someone we loved; I lost Eileen, Dean lost Cas –” he turned to catch Adam’s eye “– and Michael lost you.</p><p>“I think, because you two were so close for so long in the Cage, he couldn’t handle it when Chuck raptured you. He, uh, he tried to bargain with Chuck. He said he’d bring us to him to let him kill us if he’d bring you back.”</p><p>Sam’s heart ached at the lost expression on Adam’s face, at the tears that welled up in his eyes. Adam screwed his eyes shut as the first tears fell and shook his head, a bitter twist to his mouth that was somewhere between a smile and a grimace.</p><p>“Damn it, Michael,” he muttered, pain and fondness soaking the syllables. The silence hung between them for a few more moments; Sam wasn’t sure what to say, or if there was anything he <em>could </em>say to make things better.</p><p>“We’re working on finding a way into the Empty.”</p><p>“The Empty?” Adam said, his head jerking up to catch Sam’s gaze again. He furrowed his brow as he wracked his brain. “Where angels and demons go when they die?”</p><p>“Michael knew about it?”</p><p>“He knew <em>of </em>it,” Adam shrugged. Sam could see as he put two and two together, how his eyes lit up and he looked back at Sam again. Before he could ask, Sam held up a hand.</p><p>“We’re gonna get Cas back, but,” he cut himself off, exhaled heavily, “I need you to know, Chuck didn’t just kill Michael. He – he <em>unmade </em>him; ripped his grace apart. I don’t know if he’d even be in the Empty after that, but we’ll try to find him for you. I promise.”</p>
<hr/><p>The next couple of days passed in a blur. Sam and Adam both hit the books with a vengeance, trying desperately to wrest the knowledge they needed from their pages. Adam occasionally needed help with understanding some of the more obscure lore references, but he already knew Latin from his time at college, and Michael had taught him Enochian so well that he was fluent in it, which made translating the texts significantly easier.</p><p>Aside from the research, they also went out to the nearest town that actually had a decent-sized grocery story and stocked up on food. Sam also made it a point to get Adam whatever amenities and clothes he needed, and let him pick out a room in the Bunker for himself.</p><p>(“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Sam said, still trying so carefully to make it clear to Adam that he wanted to make things better between them without also stepping over what he needed, “but at least for while we’re working on the Empty.” He rocked back on his heels and cleared his throat awkwardly. “And, uh, if you ever wanted to stop in or, or visit or anything like that?”</p><p>Adam was silent for a good two minutes – plenty of time for Sam to berate himself for even bringing it up. Eventually, though, he nodded, and said “I’ll think about it,” his voice rough.)</p><p>Sam jolted in his seat at the sound of Miracle suddenly barking. He spun around to see the dog go racing out of the library and down the hall. A few seconds later he heard Dean’s delighted laughter floating down the hallway, and then Miracle ran back in the library, weaving in and out of Dean’s legs as he entered and popping up on his hind legs to try to get more attention. Dean just laughed again and dropped to one knee, scratching behind Miracle’s ears. Eileen wandered in a few seconds later and leaned against the door, grinning.</p><p>“That’s a good boy, yes you are,” Dean cooed as he wrapped one arm around Miracle in a headlock and scratched under his chin with his free hand. Sam smirked at the spectacle before him.</p><p>“Never thought you’d be so happy to have a dog.”</p><p>“Are you kidding me, dude? Look at him, he’s adorable! Who wouldn’t love him?” Dean wrapped his arms around Miracle’s shoulders and hauled him up, his hind legs dangling a few inches above the floor and Dean’s arms in the canine equivalent of armpits. Judging by the lolling tongue and wagging tail, he didn’t mind the manhandling all that much.</p><p>Dean set Miracle back down again. “And,” he said, holding up a finger, then pointing it towards Sam, “he sheds less than you do.”</p><p>Sam rolled his eyes. “You’re hilarious,” he said, as breathtakingly dry as possible. He was rewarded with a middle finger thrust in his direction.</p><p>Dean walked over to Adam on the other side of the room. Earlier that day, the two of them had had a long conversation on the phone while Eileen took a shift driving. Sam wasn’t exactly sure what they talked about, but he figured it probably went similarly to his talk with Adam a couple of days ago – especially if Dean’s recent commitment to honesty was anything to go off of.</p><p>“Hi Sam.” He turned away from his brothers’ conversation at the weight of a hand on his shoulder as much as he did the sound of Eileen’s voice. He smiled up at her.</p><p>“Hey yourself. The hunt went okay?”</p><p>Eileen nodded. “Yep – it was pretty easy, actually.” She slid her hand across his back so that her arm hung loosely around his shoulders. “It was good to get out for a bit.”</p><p>“And Dean didn’t drive you crazy?”</p><p>“Actually, we worked really well together.” She nudged his shoulder playfully as a smirk curled across her mouth. “He said he appreciated a partner who didn’t bitch about his music the whole drive.”</p><p>Sam grinned so wide he could feel his dimples showing. “What did you say?” he asked, and tapped his index finger on his chin before extending his hand out in front of him, palm turned upward.</p><p>“I told him that just because I can’t hear it” – she touched the tip of her index finger to the corner of her mouth and dragged it up to her ear – “doesn’t mean it’s good.”</p><p>Sam laughed as his smile threatened to split his face in half. He leaned his head against her and buried his face in her side. He felt like a lunatic, smiling so much, but he couldn’t help himself around her. He lifted his hand and, with it facing her, folded down his middle and ring fingers, keeping the other three up.</p><p>“I love you,” he murmured into her side. He felt a soft touch, feather light, as her lips brushed his forehead in a kiss.</p><p>“Oh! I’m sorry, is this a bad time?”</p><p>Sam pulled his head away from Eileen and stared, wide-eyed, at the familiar figure that had appeared sitting cross-legged on the end of one of the library tables, across the room. He stood from his chair and saw Eileen turn beside him as she noticed his shifted attention.</p><p>“Jack,” he breathed. He heard footsteps approaching from behind him, but he didn’t shift his gaze, didn’t so much as blink, in case Jack disappeared again.  Jack smiled and raised a hand.</p><p>“Hello!”</p><p>In a flash, Sam was across the room, his arms wrapped around Jack, holding him close enough that he could do his jacket up around him if he wanted to. A part of him <em>did </em>want to, if it would be enough to keep him there with the rest of his family. Jack’s arms settled around Sam’s torso, warm and steady. All too soon, he was elbowed in the ribs and jostled away from their child.</p><p>“Quit hoggin’ the kid,” Dean groused, and took Sam’s place in scooping Jack up in a huge hug. Sam could see Jack’s smile over Dean’s shoulder, wide and weightless. He swallowed roughly; he wasn’t completely sure when the lump had formed in his throat. Dean pulled back slightly. He cleared his throat and grasped one of Jack’s shoulders.</p><p>“Listen, Jack, I’ve got something I need to say to you. Whatever it is you’re here for, whatever baby-God business you’ve got, just… let me get this out first?”</p><p>Jack nodded, a soft smile still on his face and his eyes as open and trusting as they always were. Despite his new power, he still looked like the same curious kid he had been since the day he was born.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Jack,” Dean said, his voice gruff with restrained emotion. “What I said about you, and what I said to you later… that wasn’t fair. And it wasn’t true, either. You <em>are </em>family. We love you – <em>I </em>love you.” He swallowed, loud enough that Sam could hear it from where he stood. “You’re our kid. Okay? Nothing changes that. And I, I – I don’t know how I forgot that.”</p><p>“You were being manipulated by Chuck,” another familiar voice said, projected from behind them once again. Sam spun around, and saw Dean do the same from the corner of his eye, to face Amara. She casually leaned against the wall, dressed in a cobalt blue pantsuit, black-and-white zebra print shirt, and vivid red heels. “My brother has a knack for bringing out the worst in people – believe me, I know.”</p><p>She pushed herself off the wall and sauntered over to where everyone else was grouped. “And, you can take that as an ‘apology accepted’ from me, as well.” Her tone was wry, but light; clearly, there were no hard feelings on her part.</p><p>“We didn’t want to hurt you, Amara,” Dean said, “but if we were gonna take Chuck out it would’ve thrown everything –”</p><p>“– Out of balance,” she finished. “I get it.”</p><p>“Speaking of balance,” Sam cut in, “weren’t you and Jack, uh, sharing a body, or something?”</p><p>“We were, for a bit,” Amara said. “I wanted to try being in Harmony with my counterpart. My dear brother,” she rolled her eyes, “wasn’t one for compromise. It was nice, for a time, but I’ve grown accustomed to being my own entity. And I like the Earth,” she said with a shrug. “Kind of hard to experience the world when you’re stuck inside someone else. And it’s been nice getting to know my grand-nephew.” She smiled and tousled Jack’s hair.</p><p>“Actually, about that,” Jack piped up. He sounded… nervous? “Balance is kind of why we’re here.”</p><p>“We need your help,” Amara said as she dragged her gaze away from Jack and back to the rest of the room. Sam’s brow furrowed in confusion.</p><p>“I thought you said you were gonna be hands-off, Jack.”</p><p>“I did, and I have been, as much as I can. The problem isn’t with Earth… it’s with Heaven.” Jack hopped off of the table. He hesitated for a second, brows drawn together, and he spun his hands around vaguely in the air as he figured out what to say.</p><p>“I… I wanted to fix it,” he said. “The way that souls – people – are kept isolated and incubated, constantly replaying their happiest memories… it’s not right. People need other people, even when they’re dead. So I tried to remove the barriers between heavens, or at least reduce them. I wanted to make it so that anyone could visit anyone they want, or go back though their memories, or even through other people’s memories.”</p><p>Sam noticed Jack’s particular choice of words. “Tried? It didn’t work?”</p><p>“Did someone upstairs have a problem with you taking Chuck’s place?” Dean asked. Jack turned to them, eyes wide.</p><p>“Even if they did, there’s too few of them to do anything about it.” In the startled silence, Jack sighed. “Heaven is… weak. Did you know that an angel’s grace is made of the same energy as the structure of Heaven?” Jack pressed his hands together in front of him. When he pulled them apart, a glowing Cat’s Cradle of grace was strung between them. Tiny motes of light travelled along the threads.</p><p>“An angel can exist without Heaven – as long as they have faith in something, they still have access to their powers. And their grace exists as its own force, like a human soul does. But Heaven can’t exist without angels.” He motioned with his head towards the pulses of light on the Cat’s Cradle. “When they’re in Heaven, an angel’s grace sort of… blends with the grace of Heaven. It’s – hmm.” He cut himself off, brows even more furrowed than before.</p><p>“Think of it like the opposite of a string of Christmas lights – each individual light supplies power to the plug, and when you plug it in to the socket, the power in it turns on the rest of the lights in the house.”</p><p>A cold feeling crept along Sam’s spine. “Jack,” he said, cautiously, “how many angels are there, currently?” Jack turned back to him. The look in his eyes made him look as old as the title of God implied.</p><p>“Four.”</p><p>Sam’s breath stopped momentarily as his mind screeched to a halt. Beside him he saw Dean blink rapidly and rear his head back incredulously.</p><p>“Four? Four angels, total,” Dean said. Sam recognized the tone, where he sounded like he was just calmly stating facts, but was actually about three seconds from flipping his shit. Jack nodded, a weary sadness settling on his face.</p><p>“They won’t be able to sustain Heaven for long. They’re just not enough. It’s only a matter of time before Heaven completely collapses.”</p><p>“What… what would happen then? To the souls, that is. Where would they go?” Sam asked.</p><p>“To the Veil,” said Amara, “where they would be trapped and, over time, become vengeful spirits and poltergeists. Though a few would probably be snapped up by some greedy godling and traded on some black market for power.”</p><p>Sam felt sick; the part of his brain that collected random trivia while he researched piped up with the fact that there are approximately fifteen times as many dead people as there are currently living. More than 100 billion people – and sure, not all of them were in Heaven, but the numbers were still almost incomprehensible. For all of them to end up as vengeful spirits, all innocent people who had already reached their happy ending…</p><p>“So what do you need us for?” Eileen asked. “We can’t do anything about the angels.”</p><p>“Not alone, you can’t.” Amara walked up to stand next to Jack. “I think we all want the same thing. Don’t we?” she asked, with a significant look at Dean.</p><p>Sam’s eyes widened and he heard Dean’s breath catch as he came to the same conclusion. “We need a way into the Empty.”</p><p>“When Billie sent me there, the energy from the rituals made me into a living bomb. It was enough to weaken the Empty, but not enough to destroy it,” Jack said. “It also told me, just before Billie pulled me back out, that I “made it loud”. I think that even if the angels and demons trapped there aren’t awake yet, the Empty is worried about that possibility.”</p><p>Sam’s heart leapt; it sounded like they had a shot at this after all. He turned to the others to see what their reactions were. Eileen looked thoughtful and determined, but then again, she didn’t have as personal of a stake in this as the rest of them did.</p><p>Dean and Adam, though. Sam’s brothers didn’t look particularly similar in appearance, but they were doing their best impression of twins at the moment; the same wide eyes, the same slight lean forwards towards Jack, the same sudden spark of hope that they desperately needed.</p><p>“But why do you need us?” All eyes spun to Sam as he asked the question. “The two of you must be powerful enough to deal with the Empty on your own, right?”</p><p>Amara chuckled. “Power’s not all there is to it, Sam. We’re cosmic, and that attracts a lot of attention. The Empty will know we’re coming, and it’ll be prepared to take us out any way it can. And the two of us are exactly what it’s used to keeping under control, just on a larger scale.”</p><p>“But, we can open the way – at least, we think we can,” Jack said. “Each of us is the leader of a given afterlife, and that connection, along with the sheer power we have, should be able to open the door.”</p><p>“Wait, leader of an afterlife?” Dean questioned. “For you, maybe - but Amara?”</p><p>Amara just smiled beatifically at Dean and extended one hand forwards. For a moment, nothing happened; then, she curled her fingers like she was holding a pole of some kind, and a tall dark metal rod was in her grasp, topped with a blade in the shape of a crescent moon made of a silvery metal so shiny it looked liquid.</p><p>“As I always should have been,” she said blithely, as she admired the new dark metal and white stone ring on her finger. “God and I are two halves of the same coin: Creation and Destruction, Light and Dark,” she turned her head to smile at Jack, “Life and Death.”</p><p>“You were… supposed to be Death,” Dean said haltingly. Amara turned back to him with a smirk.</p><p>“Yeah, except my brother had me locked away, so he needed someone else to do the job. He took part of my essence to create the original Death. The reapers – they often get mistaken for angels, but they were all originally mortal once, given a choice by Death when they die. They became his lieutenants as they ushered souls to their appropriate afterlife. Considering Death was made with my essence, and they were made with part of Death’s, they are almost angels in a way.” She wobbled her hand back and forth in a so-so gesture. “Just the darker version of them.”</p><p>Dean ruminated on that information for a minute or so. His head was bowed, his brows were drawn in tight, and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Eventually, he raised his head back to Amara.</p><p>“But you two can’t open the door now?”</p><p>Amara shrugged. “Like I said, we’re cosmic. The Empty knows our power too well; we’d need someone else to help get in through the cracks of its defenses.”</p><p>“Another leader of an afterlife,” Sam said, and just like that, the final piece of the puzzle slotted into place in his mind. “Someone incredibly powerful, but in a way that the Empty won’t see coming.” He glanced at Dean and saw him grinning back at him, clearly on the same page. Sam turned back to Jack and Amara.</p><p>“We need Rowena.”</p>
<hr/><p>Sam moved with a purpose, mixing and crushing and preparing spell ingredients. He was, of course, familiar with the spell, having cast it before – and was it really only a few months ago that he had last cast it? He shook his head and focused back on the spell.</p><p>He had relocated to the dungeon, while Dean and Adam bustled around upstairs, gathering weapons and supplies for taking the fight to the Empty. Eileen had joined him, but just watched as he prepared the spell. Her area of expertise was not in magic.</p><p>He dropped the last of the ingredients into the bowl, and pulled out his matchbook, ready to light it. He turned to Eileen.</p><p>“You’re sure you don’t want to come with?” Eileen smiled back, her expression equal parts sardonic and self-deprecating.</p><p>“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to be here with you guys, and I love hunting.” She shrugged her shoulders. “But all of this cosmic level stuff is a little outside of my pay grade.” She held her left hand out, palm up, and tapped the back of her right hand against her palm twice. Then, she scooped her right hand in towards her body. “Besides, I’ve got practice watching this spell.”</p><p>“If you’re sure,” Sam said hesitantly. In lieu of a response, Eileen just smiled and stretched up to kiss him on the cheek. He leaned into it gratefully. She pulled back and patted him on the shoulder.</p><p>“Come back quick.”</p><p>“As fast as I can.”</p><p>With that, he took a deep breath and lit the match. He dropped it into the bowl, and the moment it touched the prepared ingredients a bright violet flame flared up. Sam screwed his eyes shut against the bright light, and when he opened them again, he stood before a set of ornate wrought iron doors in a stony hallway.</p><p>A woman in an all-black suit stood before the doors; her arms were crossed behind her back, her mouth was pulled into a stern frown, and her eyes were solid black. She glanced towards him as he appeared; she pushed her shoulders back and started striding towards him.</p><p>“Don’t take another step! What are you do–” She stopped dead in her tracks. Sam saw her eyes widen, and she loudly cleared her throat and stood at attention. “Sam Winchester.” Her voice was perfunctorily professional, with all of the previous hostility gone. “What business do you have here?”</p><p>Sam swallowed and drew himself up to his full height. “I need to speak with Rowena.”</p><p>“Of course.” The demon guard turned back towards the doors and jerked her head for him to follow. He let himself be led into the throne room of Hell.</p><p>The room looked the same as the last time Sam had been there. Rowena, on the other hand, looked more like she did when she was alive than she did the last time Sam had seen her. She looked every inch the queen she was, in a long velvet violet gown and matching eyeshadow, her red hair long and loose in curls tumbling around her shoulders. She glanced up as the doors opened, and a cat-like grin spread across her red lips.</p><p>“Ah, thank you Eliza. If you could let us have some privacy, dear?”</p><p>“Of course, your majesty.” The guard – Eliza – bowed deeply towards Rowena, and even nodded respectfully at Sam as she turned and left the room. The iron doors slammed shut with a deep boom, and it was only then that Rowena spoke.</p><p>“Hello, Samuel,” she practically purred. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Sam couldn’t help but grin back at her.</p><p>“Hey, Rowena.” He walked slowly up towards the throne, and pointed his thumb back over his shoulder to where Eliza left. “What – what exactly was that all about?”</p><p>“Oh, don’t be modest, Samuel, it’s unbecoming. You command respect.” Sam shook his head slightly, still confused. When he didn’t speak up again, Rowena continued. “You said it yourself to a room full of demons – there would be no new King of Hell. If anyone wanted the job, they had to go through you.” She took a sip from a goblet of wine, then held it up towards him with a raised brow. “Remember the last time you were here? I didn’t just send you out to fetch a drink because I was thirsty, or to get your brother and the angel alone to talk. I gave you an order, and you recognized my authority. You validated my claim to the throne.”</p><p>Sam blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean? How could I have – what? Why would they have listened to what I said?”</p><p>Rowena’s gaze turned pitying. “You were once destined for this seat yourself,” she said softly but not unkindly, one hand gently tapping the arm of the throne. “There are many here that still recognize that.”</p><p>She clapped her hands together, and Sam startled at the sound. “But! I’m sure you’re not here for that, and with you boys it’s never just a social call, so tell me – what can Auntie Rowena do for you?”</p><p>Sam filled her in as quickly as he could about everything that had happened – the world being raptured, defeating Chuck, Jack becoming the new God, Cas sacrificing himself to the Empty, and Jack and Amara’s plan to get the angels back alongside their plan to get Cas and Michael back. When he finished, he watched Rowena pick her goblet back up and drain what was left in one go. She set it down and smiled blithely at him, stood up, and brushed off her dress.</p><p>“Well, then, you boys don’t know how to do anything halfway, do you?” She walked down the steps of the throne and strode towards him. “We’d best be off then, lest Dean decides to force his way into the Empty through spite alone.” She threaded her arm through Sam’s and her eyes flared purple.</p><p>“<em>Origo redire</em>!”</p><p> Another flash of bright violet light, and the two of them stood in the Bunker’s dungeon, the bowl filled with the transportation spell sitting on a nearby table, fizzling. Eileen had left the room at some point, and Sam heard raised voices from above them.</p><p>“Oh, god, what now,” he grumbled. Rowena chuckled beside him and patted his arm.</p><p>“Now you know how the rest of us feel.”</p><p>Sam shot her an unimpressed look. He grabbed a couple of things from the table before he lead the two of them up the stairs and over to where the voices were coming from. Apparently, everyone else had relocated to the War Room while Sam was gone. As they reached the room, he saw Adam and Eileen just outside the doors, leaning against opposing walls and talking quietly.</p><p>“Hey,” Sam said. “What’s going on?”</p><p>“We’re staying out of it,” Adam said, with the exact tone of someone who had recently had that phrase shouted at them and wasn’t particularly happy about it. He jerked his head towards the room. “Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”</p><p>Sam slipped into the War Room, with Rowena close behind. An array of weapons and ammunition was spread out across the map table, and Jack and Amara stood off to the side, watching the confrontation taking place in the centre of the room. Rowena immediately broke away from Sam and strode over to join them.</p><p>Sitting cross-legged on the end of the map table, much like Jack had earlier in the library, was Kaia. She glanced up at the movement from the doorway and gave Sam a soft smile and a wave. He returned the gesture in turn, if perhaps with a tighter smile. If Kaia was there, that could only mean…</p><p>“You’re not going, and that’s final!”</p><p>“And what makes you think you get a say in what I do?”</p><p>Yep, that was Claire fighting with Dean. Sam walked up to the map table and leaned against it, next to Kaia. He figured he’d just let the two of them tire themselves out, and whoever gave up last would win the argument.</p><p>“I’ve been useless these past two years, chasing my damn tail while Kaia was trapped in some alternate universe, and I only just got her back!” Claire yelled.</p><p>“Exactly! You shouldn’t be chasing us around, you should be with her!” Now that Sam was actually close enough to hear their argument, he could hear the heartbreak in Dean’s voice.</p><p>“That’s not the point, asshole! I can’t…” Claire growled in the back of her throat and dropped her head. “Listen, I know he’s not actually my dad, but also, he kind of is? Or at least the closest thing I have to a dad at this point.” She looked back up at Dean, her eyes blazing. “I couldn’t help Kaia, but I <em>can </em>help Castiel.”</p><p>Sam watched Dean’s resolve start to crumble. So, of course, that’s when Kaia chose to speak up.</p><p>“I’m coming too.”</p><p>“What? No!” Dean snapped his head towards Kaia. “Neither of you are coming!” Kaia got up from the table and stood next to Claire. She slipped her hand into hers, but didn’t look away from Dean.</p><p>“The Empty is a realm of sleep, right? Hundreds of thousands of angels and demons, sleeping and dreaming, remembering their regrets and mistakes.” She swallowed and tilted her chin up defiantly. “I’m a Dreamwalker; this is what I’m meant to do, I know it. You need me.”</p><p>“If she’s going, I’m going,” Claire taunted. Dean’s eyes darted between the two young women. After a long moment of everyone holding their breath, his shoulders slumped and he sighed.</p><p>“Ugh, fine. Fine! Get your shit and get ready to go,” he said, gesturing haphazardly towards the table full of weapons. Claire pumped her fist triumphantly and started gearing up. Dean ambled over to join her; as he reached the table, he sent a flat look Sam’s way.</p><p>“Thanks for the backup,” he groused.</p><p>“You looked like you had it handled,” Sam replied mildly. Dean smacked him in the shoulder, but he just laughed it off. He turned to look behind him and watched as the two hunters snapped up angels blades and pistols; Dean grabbed the demon-killing knife, and Claire hoisted her flamethrower.</p><p>“I… don’t think that’s gonna do much to the Empty, kiddo,” Dean said.</p><p>“It will if the fuel tank’s filled with holy oil,” Claire shot back, holding the flamethrower upright in one hand and patting the tank with the other. Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. A terrible thought occurred to Sam.</p><p>“Dean, listen to me, ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once.” He waited until Dean’s eyes were on him, and then sighed heavily. God damn it. “…You should take the grenade launcher.”</p><p>Somehow, Dean’s eyebrows rose even higher. “I’m sorry, what was that? I don’t think I heard you quite right.”</p><p>“Nope, I said I was only gonna say it once, you’re not getting it out of me again.” He ignored Dean’s grin in favour of sending him an unimpressed look. “But seriously, you’re trying to wake everyone in the Empty up, right? You want noise, you want firepower. As much as I hate to say it,” and he did hate it, “it probably is your best option.”</p><p>“<em>If </em>you lot are done with your squabbling?” Rowena called from the other side of the room. “We’re ready to go.”</p><p>The jovial mood quickly evaporated; Dean and Claire grabbed the last couple of weapons they needed, and Kaia picked up an angel blade and the Enochian brass knuckles for herself. As Dean hoisted the grenade launcher over his shoulder, he shot a questioning look Sam’s way.</p><p>“You’re sure you don’t wanna come with?”</p><p>Sam shook his head. “I’m fine to hold down the fort with everyone else. Besides, we probably don’t want to send more people than absolutely necessary.” Dean shrugged noncommittally.</p><p>“Alright, suit yourself.”</p><p>The four of them walked over to where Rowena, Amara, and Jack were waiting. The three of them had arranged themselves in a triangle near the wall. Rowena nodded as everyone approached.</p><p>“Are we ready to go?” The group nodded out of sync. “Good. Now, the three of us certainly have the power we need to open the way, but we’re going to need a focus.” Her sharp gaze turned to Sam. “I believe you have what we need for that?”</p><p>“I do.”</p><p>“Excellent.” Rowena’s lips curved into a smile that was equal parts proud and smug. She motioned him forward, and he stepped into the centre of the triangle. As soon as he was between the three of them, they closed ranks, clasping hands with one another. Sam gave Dean a reassuring look.</p><p>“We’re gonna get him back.” He waited for Dean’s nod before he continued. He pulled from his pockets the items he had grabbed from the dungeon. Nothing fancy – just a small clay bowl which he filled with holy oil, and an old sturdy iron key, around which was tied a faded purple ribbon with frayed ends. He held the key above the bowl. He looked at Rowena and gave her a nod.</p><p>She nodded back, and her eyes flared purple, and arcane energy crackled like violet lightning around her. On one side of her, Amara’s eyes went a deep-void black, and dark smoke swirled around her feet; on her other side, Jack’s eyes glowed with a pure-white light with just a hint of gold at the centre, and the shadows of wings flickered on the walls.</p><p>Sam took a deep breath and slowly lowered the key into the holy oil. “ODO ZAR EOGA BRGDO PAID,” he chanted, letting the words flow through him. It wasn’t a formal spell, not something he had read in a grimoire, but the words and ingredients felt right. From the look of approval on Rowena’s face, he’d say he did okay.</p><p>He pulled the key back out of the oil; the holy oil had turned black and viscous where it clung to the key, and it spun rapidly like a crystal pendulum. “ODO AFFA.”</p><p>A horrible wet sucking sound echoed through the room, and a dark, inky portal opened in the nearby wall.</p><p>“Alright, ladies first,” Dean said, with a firm pat on Claire’s shoulder. She rolled her eyes at him, but jumped through the portal with no complaint, and Kaia followed immediately after her. Dean glanced behind him and traded reassuring nods with Sam, then plunged into the blackness.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Rowena's spell is Latin for "Return to the place of origin". The Enochian that Sam says at the end translates (roughly) to "Open the path to the place of sleep eternal", and "Open the Empty."</p><p>Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Now Your Life's No Longer Empty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Merry Christmas Eve everybody! I hope your holidays are going well.</p><p>Time to rescue Cas from the Empty! *heist music intensifies*</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean stumbled as he crossed the threshold into the Empty. He was immediately hit by the chill of the air – not cold enough for him to see his breath, but enough to prickle his skin and enough to be uncomfortable. He rubbed at his arms to warm them up and glanced around the area.</p><p>It was instantly obvious why this place was called the Empty. It was an endless void of black, as far as he could see. There weren’t even shadows or variations in the ground or the area around, which made it impossible to tell how big the area even was. It could have been as expansive as the solar system, or it could only extend five feet in front of him.</p><p>He kept his eyes on his feet as he shuffled forwards to where Claire and Kaia stood. Maybe it was stupid, but the absolute darkness made it feel like any step could send him plummeting into oblivion. His stomach swooped as his fear of flying reared its ugly head, but he swallowed it down.</p><p>He stopped next to Claire; she looked out into the Empty with all the fierce determination of a hunter, but Dean could see the whiteness of her knuckles where she gripped her shotgun and the tension in her shoulders.</p><p>Dean nudged her gently with his elbow. “Well, the name’s fitting, if nothing else,” he said mildly, as much for his own benefit as hers.</p><p>“Yeah,” Claire snorted. “Not quite what I’d pictured, but I’m not sure why I expected anything else.” She swept one hand out in front of her, gesturing to the void. “Shouldn’t be too hard to find him – anything would stand out here. It really is Empty.”</p><p>“No it’s not.”</p><p>Dean and Claire turned in unison at the sound of Kaia’s voice. She stood stock-still, not in a natural way, but in the way that someone does when a dangerous animal is nearby and they think that it won’t notice them if they don’t move. Her voice was soft but tight with emotion. What emotion, specifically, Dean wasn’t sure – shock? Fear? Both?</p><p>“What do you mean?” Claire asked. She gently held Kaia’s elbow. “Kaia? What is it?”</p><p>Kaia shook her head. She still looked straight forward, but took a tiny unsteady step backwards. Dean carefully moved closer.</p><p>“Kaia? We need you with us, okay?” He put his hands on her shoulders, heart breaking a little as she tensed even further at his touch. “Just breathe with me, okay? Nice and slow.”</p><p>For the next minute or two, the only sound was Dean and Kaia’s breaths, his deep and slow, hers shallower and shaky. Eventually, her shoulders relaxed and her eyes shut.</p><p>“There we go,” Dean said softly. “You alright?”</p><p>“I…” Kaia swallowed, her throat clicking. “I think so.” Dean heard swishing fabric, and glanced over to see Claire rubbing Kaia’s back.</p><p>“You said this place isn’t Empty.” Dean had a sneaking suspicion what had Kaia so shaken, but he needed to know for sure. “What did you see?”</p><p>“It – it just looks black to you? Just darkness?”</p><p>“Yeah. Why – do you see something else?” Claire asked.</p><p>Kaia looked out into the Empty again, but she wasn’t frozen in fear this time. Her eyes flickered around, taking in something only she could see.</p><p>“There’s so many of them,” she murmured. “So many angels and demons, all sleeping. I can –” she winced and rubbed her temple “– I can hear them, too. Their dreams aren’t just dreams, they’re memories. All their regrets, and failures, their mistakes and guilts, playing over and over again. I can feel it, too, the grief and anger and pain.</p><p>“It’s grey, the, the air,” she said, waving a hand around, “and the ground is white. And the ground – it’s not just an open space – it’s a labyrinth. But it doesn’t go up in walls like a normal maze. There’s these, like, walkways, maybe a couple feet wide? And it just drops into nothing around them.”</p><p>Dean and Claire shuffled their feet, inching closer inwards towards each other. Dean kept his gaze down on the blackness, as if he would suddenly be able to see the paths that Kaia did. He swallowed roughly.</p><p>“Great,” he said sarcastically and tipped his head. “I guess you’re leading this expedition, then.”</p><p>“There’s more,” said Kaia. “There’s… I’m not sure what they are.” She turned to look at the two hunters. “When you were on long car rides when you were little, did you ever imagine creatures running alongside the car? Giant, black beasts?”</p><p>The infernal howling and glowing-coal eyes of hellhounds flashed into Dean’s mind. He shook his head to force the thought away. “Can’t, uh, can’t say I ever did.”</p><p>“I did,” Claire said quietly. “A couple other kids I went to school with did too. We called them Runalongs.”</p><p>Kaia nodded. “They’re kind of like that. Or maybe a hellhound. But bigger, I think. They’ve got ink-like skin instead of fur, like the substance the portal was made of – like the Empty itself, I guess. Too many legs. No eyes. Tongues too long for their bodies.”</p><p>A cold shiver ran down Dean’s back. He readjusted the grip on his shotgun, once again searching to find something he was incapable of seeing. He wasn’t particularly comfortable with that idea. He tipped his chin up to Kaia.</p><p>“You think they’ll be a problem?” He probably shouldn’t have been so proud that his voice didn’t come out shaky. Kaia shrugged helplessly. He sighed. “Alright then, let’s daisy-chain it. Lead the way, Kaia.”</p>
<hr/><p>The three of them travelled single-file through the Empty; Kaia led the way, Claire followed her, and Dean brought up the rear. They held hands as they walked, making sure they didn’t lose one another in this eldritch realm.</p><p>“Step where I step,” Kaia told them several times, as she carefully stepped around something only she could see. Probably the unconscious form of some angel or demon. She directed them through the invisible labyrinth, muttering apologies under her breath every few minutes that she didn’t know where exactly she was leading them. Dean told her every time that she had nothing to apologize for, and Claire would squeeze her hand and rub her thumb along her knuckles.</p><p>There was once that Dean wasn’t careful enough with the placement of his steps, or maybe Kaia just hadn’t accounted for the difference in the size of their feet when she planned where she trod, or maybe the Empty itself was shifting under them, trying to keep them from moving forwards. Whatever the reason, one of Dean’s steps around a corner – if Kaia’s path was any indication – resulted in his foot coming down over open air instead of the ground.</p><p>For a horrible second, the bottom of his stomach dropped out and he swung down, his left leg dangling uselessly below him and his right flying out from under him. His heart pounded, the blood rushing through his ears. His arm wrenched in its socket, and Claire and Kaia were side-by-side, pulling him back up. He stumbled forward on the pathway – just a step – and regained his balance.</p><p>“Thanks.” He panted heavily, leaning forward and bracing his arms on his knees while he caught his breath. He clasped his hands together, hoping it would make them stop shaking.</p><p>“You alright?” Claire asked, doing her best to sound like she wasn’t affected by his almost-fall and failing miserably.</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” He wiped his now-sweaty hands on his jeans and refused to look either Claire or Kaia in the eyes. “Let’s keep moving.”</p><p>There were a couple of moments, too, when Kaia would suddenly freeze in place and fling her arms out to the sides to block their path.</p><p>“Don’t move,” she whispered harshly. Dean and Claire froze. Dean’s breath caught in his throat, and he watched as Kaia’s head slid slowly from one side to the other, and he knew that she was watching and waiting for one of those horrific hounds to meander past. After way too long of a moment, she relaxed and dropped her arms. Dean’s breath came out in a rush, and he watched Claire in front of him as her shoulders slumped in relief.</p><p>“It’s gone now,” Kaia murmured.</p><p>“It didn’t notice us?” Claire asked; Dean understood the urge to double-check if they were actually… well, not safe, but not actively being hunted down. Kaia shook her head.</p><p>“I don’t think they will notice us. They’re used to looking for angels and demons – beings way more inherently powerful. But a couple of humans? We’re basically invisible to them.”</p><p>“Let’s not put that theory to the test,” Dean muttered. Kaia gave him a wry look before she turned and continued leading them.</p><p>They didn’t speak as they walked, other than Kaia occasionally telling them where to step or to stop and wait. Dean didn’t think it was because of their incredibly professional focus on the mission, nor because they were trying to keep quiet so that the Empty wouldn’t hear them. No, something about this place just sucked away all strength. The prickling chill of the air, the endless dark, the horrors lurking in the shadows.</p><p>All of it designed to keep the slumbering angels and demons under control, Dean realized. Their worst memories, swirling around them at all moments – he couldn’t think of a more effective way to kill someone’s will to escape, to survive. Even if they did wake up, they’d lose their way in the darkness, without any way to guide them or any sort of exit. That is, if they didn’t step off the path and plunge deeper into the Empty. And the hounds were always patrolling, ever aware of the prisoners in their realm, ready to drag them deeper if they got too close.</p><p>He shivered again.</p><p>Kaia called out where to step once again and carefully directed them around a slumbering body. As she picked up one foot, Claire was quick to slip hers in where it was, and when she stepped forward, Dean nudged in after her. He looked down around their feet, but couldn’t see whoever it was that Kaia was directing them around. If he had to hazard a guess, he would say that the Empty kept them separated, so that if someone did wake up, they wouldn’t be able to immediately start waking everyone else.</p><p>Dean reached the other side and almost ran right into Claire. She and Kaia had stopped; Kaia was looking down at the unconscious person, her head tilted and brow furrowed as she studied them.</p><p>“Someone you know?” Dean asked.</p><p>“I think they must be a demon,” Kaia said. “All of the angels we’ve passed, when I saw their memories, they all seemed… consistent. They were remembering how they died, or people they hurt, or stuff like that. Some of it was, like, ancient, but they all looked like they came from the same person.”</p><p>“And this guy?” Claire asked. “They’re different, somehow?”</p><p>Kaia nodded. “I think they’re remembering who they were before they died. The first time, that is – before they were a demon.” She cut herself off with a wince. “Also torture. There’s a – there’s a lot of screaming.”</p><p>The three of them stared downwards, Kaia at the body, Claire and Dean roughly where they assumed it was. Dean wasn’t sure what was going through the girls’ minds, but memories of Hell flashed through his mind, the gleam of metal, the stink of blood, the shrieking screams of souls as they were flayed on the racks. He already had enough of a time dealing with those memories without having to actively relive them every moment of every day. He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for the demons here.</p><p>By silent agreement, the three of them turned away and continued their trek through the void.</p><p>Dean couldn’t tell how long they had been wandering for. It was impossible to tell distance here, and while he could check his watch, he wasn’t sure that time moved at the same rate here as it did on Earth. Regardless, it was the first time in however-many minutes that something caught his eye. Except it was significantly closer to their group than he expected.</p><p>“Uh, Claire? You got your phone out?” That was the only explanation he could think of. She scoffed.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m playing Candy Crush in the middle of a hunt in a completely unexplored plane of existence that’s probably actively trying to kill us.” She had about the same amount of sass as Cas and Sam combined, multiplied by five. She shot him a look over her shoulder. “No, I don’t. Why?”</p><p>“’Cause you’re glowing.”</p><p>That caused her to stop in her tracks. She spun around to face Dean, but instead of looking at him her eyes grew wide and she looked down at herself. Kaia turned around at the commotion and placed a hand gently on Claire’s shoulder.</p><p>“What do you mean I’m glowing? What the hell?!”</p><p>Sure enough, there was a faint blue-white glow emanating from Claire, right in the hollow of her throat. Dean squinted.</p><p>“It looks like grace,” Kaia said gently. She glanced at Dean. “Right? That looks like grace?”</p><p>“Yeah, it does,” he muttered. Something niggled at the back of his mind, some important piece of lore or relevant information that was just out of reach.</p><p>“Why do I have grace?!” Her hand flew to her throat and she touched two fingers to it, like she was feeling her pulse.</p><p>Wait.</p><p>“Gadreel,” Dean mumbled under his breath. He looked up, eyes wide, at Claire. “When an angel leaves a vessel, it’s possible that they leave behind a sliver of their grace.”</p><p>“Are you saying that Castiel left this behind when he possessed me?” Claire demanded.</p><p>“Not intentionally; it kind of just… tears off,” Dean said with a shrug. He remembered what else he had been told about Gadreel’s grace, way back when. “If you have access to an angel’s grace, you can track them. The way that I know about was a spell, but maybe…”</p><p>He didn’t want to say it out loud, just in case it wasn’t possible; he didn’t want to raise his own hopes like that just to watch them be crushed.</p><p>Claire tried to look down at her own throat, deep in thought. She looked over at Kaia for a moment, then looked back at Dean. She studied his face, her brows furrowed and eyes squinted in such a way that made Dean’s heart ache; it seemed Jimmy made that expression just as much as Cas did. Claire sighed, seeming to have made up her mind.</p><p>“Okay. What do I have to do?”</p><p>Dean wracked his brain for how to make this work; he wasn’t the magic expert in the family, and he certainly didn’t know how to <em>use </em>grace, just what it felt and looked like when it <em>was </em>used.</p><p>“Okay. Uh. Do you remember what it felt like when you were Cas’ vessel?”</p><p>“Kinda hard to forget.” Claire’s bitchface rivalled Sam’s at its worst.</p><p>“…Right. Uh, just. Try to focus on that – what that grace felt like when it was part of Cas. Maybe… maybe it wants to find the rest of it.”</p><p>God, that sounded so stupid. Claire gave him an uncertain look, like she also agreed with how stupid it sounded; Dean couldn’t blame her. Regardless, she heaved a put-upon sigh and closed her eyes. Her breathing deepened as she focused on the sliver of grace.</p><p>A minute or so passed with no change. Dean shifted his weight from foot to foot, both out of anxiousness to keep moving and feeling foolish for bringing up the possibility of tracking Cas with the grace.</p><p>Claire gasped a sharp inhale of breath. The sound startled Dean enough that he took an unsteady step backwards, his heart pounding. Her eyes flashed with blue-white grace-light for an instant, before fading to their usual light blue.</p><p>“I can feel it!” She half-turned in the direction they had been travelling and swept her arm out. “That way, somewhere. It’s not super specific, but at least we haven’t been going the wrong way.”</p><p>“Nice job, Avril,” Dean said. He ruffled her hair as she walked past him to take her place in their little line-up. She tried too late to duck out of his reach and scowled over her shoulder at him. “Y’think it’ll get more specific if we get closer? Like we’re triangulating Cas?”</p><p>“I think so?” she shrugged. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”</p>
<hr/><p>They continued wandering through the Empty. It could have been just as long after they discovered the shard of Cas’ grace as before, but finding that literal guiding light had put a sense of purpose in all of them that made the journey feel shorter.</p><p>And then it felt longer again, because while the grace pointed them in an increasingly specific direction towards Cas, the labyrinthine pathways of the Empty certainly tried their best to point them away from him instead. Dean lost count of the times they had to double back and find their way around instead of just going straight in the direction the grace led them. For every few feet of ground they covered towards Cas, they seemed to cover double that in the reverse.</p><p>Kaia continued leading their way through the darkness, and Claire would tap her on one shoulder or the other to tell her which direction to go. After what must have been at least an hour, the sliver of grace started glowing brighter, almost making a beacon in the black.</p><p>Just a few moments later, Kaia stopped in her tracks. She looked around from side to side, confused and almost lost.</p><p>“What happened?” Dean called out. “Is that the end of the maze? Just, *zip*, plummet into nothingness?”</p><p>Kaia turned around, shaking her head incredulously as she did so. “No – the opposite, actually. There’s, like, a huge platform over here. I can’t see any end to it.”</p><p>“D’you think it’s safe to walk on, or is it more of the maze, just disguised?” Claire asked. Dean gently nudged her shoulder with his elbow.</p><p>“What she said.” He hoped she could hear the pride in his voice; even though he hated seeing anyone so young in this life, she was still a damn good hunter, and her instincts were top-notch.</p><p>Rather than respond, Kaia turned around and slowly stretched one leg out over where the platform must have been. She eased it down until it was bearing her weight, and she slowly walked out onto the platform.</p><p>“I think it’s okay,” she called back to them. Dean and Claire exchanged an uneasy look. Dean tipped his chin up towards her, urging her forwards. She turned and sighed, then tentatively stepped onto the platform. Dean inched forwards and kept a wary eye on the spot where Claire’s feet touched the ground, suspicious of whether the platform would actually support all three of them, or if it would even stay below them at all.</p><p>So, of course, that’s when Claire yanked the arm that was holding Dean’s forward and pulled him stumbling onto the platform. A truly undignified yelp slipped out of him at the sudden upheaval. He staggered into Claire.</p><p>“What was that for?” he asked. In a totally rational and concerned way, and not like he was whining like a toddler. Claire just snickered at him, then turned to join Kaia.</p><p>They couldn’t have walked for more than another five minutes before seeing something, and actual splash of colour amidst the black. A mound on the ground in the distance. A familiar tan coat.</p><p>“Cas!” Dean yelled. Without any sort of rational thought, without any thought at all other than the need to be close to him, he broke out into a sprint. He vaguely heard pounding footfalls behind him, and the tiny sliver of his hunter’s brain that was always aware of his surroundings knew that the girls were running after him.</p><p>He paid them no mind; they didn’t matter right now, nothing mattered other than getting to Cas and getting him the fuck out of there.</p><p>“Cas!” Dean yelled again; Cas was only thirty feet away, twenty, ten, five, then Dean was sliding in on his knees next to him. He was lying on his back, eyes closed, but every line in his body was tense and his face was screwed up in an expression of pain. Dean reached out and cupped his face in both hands.</p><p>“Cas, c’mon man, wake up!” He lightly slapped at Cas’ face, he shook his shoulders, he tried pulling his eyes open. No response.</p><p>Claire stumbled into a kneeling stance beside him, and Kaia was a foot or so behind them. The sliver of grace in Claire was as bright as Cas’ ever was. Claire smacked him in the shoulder. He turned to her, wild-eyed.</p><p>“Is there some way I can give this –” she gestured to her throat “– back to him?”</p><p>“You have to cut it out.” Dean watched her eyes widen. “Just – you brought an angel blade? Take that, and just poke the very tip of it into your throat. Don’t try to do any more than that,” he stressed.</p><p>To her credit, Claire just nodded and reached into her belt loop to pull out her angel blade. She spun it around in her hand once, then flipped it so that the point of the blade was facing her. She tipped her head up, eyes closed, and slowly but steadily brought the blade up to her throat. The tip of the blade pricked her throat, and she gasped reflexively at the feeling. A tiny trickle of blood trailed down her throat, and a moment later a wispy curl of blue-white light slipped out.</p><p>It swirled lazily through the air, the smoky light entrancing in the darkness. It coiled around and through itself, and then as if drawn by a magnet flew over to Cas and slipped into his mouth. Dean heard a quiet gasp from Cas, but his expression didn’t change and his eyes didn’t open.</p><p>“Dammit, Cas, come on!” Dean muttered and shook his shoulders again. Kaia walked around to stand just above Cas’ head and crouched down. She swept his bangs back and rested her hand on his forehead, like she was feeling for a fever.</p><p>“Well, well, well, what have we here?” A familiar voice oozed from behind them. Dean stood and spun in one fluid movement, levelling his shotgun as he moved. Claire followed just a split second behind him. The figure before him was female, dressed in denim and leather with long blonde hair and a condescending smirk.</p><p>“Meg?” Dean asked, incredulous. Meg scoffed.</p><p>“Honestly, I thought you lot were the big kahunas in the hunting world; and yet, you <em>and </em>your brother are forever slow on the uptake.” Meg sauntered towards them. She raised an eyebrow and grinned widely, an expression that looked out of place on her face.</p><p>“You’re the Empty,” Dean breathed.</p><p>“Bingo, baby!” She – it – took a couple more lazy steps forward. “Dean Winchester,” it purred. “Oh, I’ve heard a lot about you. Quite a bit from our mutual friend here.” It nodded towards Cas’ unconscious form. Its grin grew rictus. “Get away from the angel.”</p><p>“Not fucking likely,” Dean snarled, and pumped several rounds of shells into it. The Empty cried out and stumbled back at the impact, but aside from some holes in the fabric of its clothes, it didn’t seem to take any damage from the shots.</p><p>“Kaia! Work on getting Cas awake! Claire, get ready!” The Empty was hunched over on itself, breathing heavily. Dean growled and stalked towards it; as he got closer, he heard its breathing turn into dark laughter. It straightened, but it no longer looked like Meg.</p><p>“Oh, you’re gonna have to do better than that, big boy,” the Empty taunted, now wearing Alastair’s face. Dean resolutely ignored the shiver of fear that ran down his spine at seeing that face again and continued marching forwards, drawing his angel blade. He slashed at the Empty, stabbing and thrusting with his blade, but the Entity kept dancing out of his reach. On one stab, the Empty’s arm turned into that inky ooze and wrapped around his arm, pulling him in.</p><p>A shot rang out, and half of the Empty’s face was blown into smithereens, dripping inky fluid. It cried out in pain and dropped Dean. Dean panted on the ground and cranked his neck around to see Claire advancing with her shotgun. He glanced back at the Empty, who was reforming its face in a fluid swirl, but its attention seemed to be focused on Claire. With the Empty distracted, Dean pulled himself along the ground towards Cas. He kept one ear open to the conversation behind him.</p><p>“You’re out of your depth, girlie. Wait just a moment.” The sounds of a blade swishing through the air and Claire’s heavy breathing hit Dean’s ears. “Claire Novak,” the Empty said, sounding intrigued. “I must say, I’m surprised to see you here. I almost didn’t recognize you, you know. You were much younger in Castiel’s regrets.”</p><p>Dean heard the Empty’s voice change, no longer Alastair’s nasally tenor; it became deeper and gravelly, but no less familiar. He didn’t let himself look, and focused on reaching the <em>real</em> Cas in front of him.</p><p>“You don’t deserve to wear his face!” Claire snarled. A wet *<em>schlurp</em>* came from behind Dean, and the Empty shrieked in pain.</p><p>Dean finally reached Cas; Kaia was holding his head in her lap, her hands on either side of his head. She looked up as Dean got close. She opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by Cas groaning and tossing his head to the side.</p><p>Dean latched on to that like a lifeline. “Cas, buddy, come on, you gotta wake up.”</p><p>Cas grimaced and turned his head away from Dean. “Stop…”</p><p>“No I’m not gonna stop, we gotta get you out of here, man!”</p><p>“Haven’t you tormented me enough?” Cas groaned softly. Dean reared back, blinking rapidly.</p><p>“Castiel, I already told you, this isn’t a dream,” Kaia said gently. Cas’ eyes opened and squinted up at them.</p><p>“…Dean?”</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah, it’s me, Cas, we’re gonna get you out, we’re gonna get everyone out, but first I need you to get yourself together, okay?” Cas didn’t move, just continued to blink up at Dean.</p><p>“…You’re here?” Dean groaned in exasperation. A scathing retort was on the tip of his tongue, but was swallowed up by the sounds from the fight behind him.</p><p>“Arhgk!” Claire’s voice cut off in a wet gurgle, and Dean spun around on his knees to see the Empty standing over her, one hand wrapped around her throat. Her own hands scrabbled at it, trying to pry its grip away. Dean stood.</p><p>“Hey, dickhead!” he yelled and swung the grenade launcher off of his shoulder. He aimed the barrel in its general direction and fired; the grenade sailed over the Empty’s shoulder, and it watched it disappear into the darkness. It turned back to Dean, a disturbing Joker-esque grin on Cas’ face.</p><p>“Missed me.”</p><p>“Wasn’t aimin’ for you.” The Empty had a split second to look confused before an earth-shaking <em>*BOOM*</em> cascaded through its realm. It <em>screamed</em>, dropping Claire to the ground and falling to its knees. It clawed at its own head, its hands trying in vain to cover its ears and block out the noise. Once the echoes subsided, its head jerked up, fixing Dean with a murderous glare.</p><p>In a flash it was on him; Dean was thrown flat on his back as the Empty wrapped its fists in his shirt.</p><p>“No!” It snarled, “No, no, enough with the noise! No more noise! Stop making it loud! You’ll wake them up!”</p><p>Dean grinned savagely at the Empty, and with a hoarse cry swung his angel blade up and stabbed it into its eye. It howled and staggered backwards, the left side of its face melting into black goop. The blade clattered to the ground and its face reformed once more. It opened its mouth, probably to bitch Dean out some more, and got blasted in the side of the neck by Claire’s shotgun.</p><p>The two of them worked beautifully in tandem; Claire would draw the Empty’s attention, blasting it with her shotgun or stabbing with her angel blade. Whenever it got too close to her, Dean launched another grenade, each one aimed in a slightly different direction to cover as much ground as possible. Each time, the Empty would wail in pain and rage and focus on Dean, and Claire would draw its attention again.</p><p>They actually managed to keep up that pattern for a few repetitions, but the Empty was an ancient primordial being. It wasn’t going to be fooled by that for long – quite frankly, Dean was amazed they managed it as long as they did. Dean fired off his sixth grenade, and when the Empty advanced on him Claire tried to get its attention as she had before, but it wasn’t having it anymore.</p><p>“I think that’s quite enough of that,” it snarled, still wearing that hideous grin on Cas’ face. Without looking away from Dean it thrust out the arm closest to Claire. From the elbow down its arm dissolved into that inky fluid, which lashed out towards her, sending her flying a few feet away and knocked her off her feet.</p><p>“Now, where were we.”</p><p>The goop-arm retracted back into a normal arm and hand. The Empty stalked up to Dean and wrapped both hands around his throat. Dean clawed at the hands, but the Empty was too strong. It lifted Dean off his feet and slammed him into the ground.</p><p>Dean wheezed as he struggled to get his breath back. He glanced back as far as the chokehold he was in allowed him, and saw Kaia helping Cas to sit up. The hands around his throat tightened and Dean choked.</p><p>“First the angel, then the nephil, and now you – you’ve all been thorns in my side for long enough!” Slowly, the Empty lifted Dean by his throat, from flat on his back to kneeling to standing, and then hanging about a foot off the ground. Over the Empty’s shoulder, Dean could see little slivers of light in the darkness; if he had to guess, they were all in the places that his grenades had landed.</p><p>“How hard is it for you <em>cockroaches </em>to understand – I. Need. Sleep.” The grip around Dean’s throat tightened even more. “And for that, I need quiet, and I need peace, and I need you <em>gone</em>.”</p><p>A sickening <em>*glorp* </em>reached Dean’s ears, and a moment later he crashed to the ground as the Empty’s grip around his neck went slack. Dean looked up, confused. Some strange protrusion poked into the Empty’s chest, enough to distend its chest but not break through the skin or fabric on the other side. Dean glanced around, bewildered, and saw Claire standing behind it, her eyes wild.</p><p>“Get. The FUCK. Away from them.”</p><p>And she pulled the trigger on her flamethrower.</p><p>The Empty <em>screamed</em>; the flames licked up its body, and clearly the holy oil that Claire had filled the fuel tank with worked, because the Empty’s form melted into the dark inky fluid of its trueform, then curled and burned like rubber. Its body shrank as it burned, melting into the ground like the Wicked Witch getting soaked with pure water.</p><p>The ground shook.</p><p>No, not the ground. The Empty itself shook, quaked like it was the centre of a volcano about to erupt. Dean turned back to look at Cas and Kaia and saw bright white cracks a few feet behind them. They spiderwebbed out like broken glass, and as he watched, they cracked again, growing closer, and again, closer still. They sounded like breaking glass, too, and light streamed up and out of the cracks.</p><p>The cracks reached Cas and Kaia, and another rumble shook the Empty.</p><p>“Alright, time to go!” Dean rushed over to Cas and helped Kaia haul him up to his feet. The four of them took off running, the ever-spreading cracks hot on their heels. The sounds of breaking glass chased them as the Empty began to collapse in on itself with the entity that maintained it dead.</p><p>Kaia slipped out in front of the group, and the others paid close attention to the path she took as they ran, as she was still the only one of them who could see the labyrinth. They sprinted down the skinny paths of the maze and took corners faster than was really safe. A couple of times, someone would have to pull someone else up as they took a corner a little too tight.</p><p>Dean could see as they ran that the slivers of light he had seen earlier were also nexus points for the shattering cracks. Everywhere that a grenade had landed, a new spiderweb of light and devastation spun out. On the fringes of the cracks, he could occasionally see the silhouette of a limb or a body, angels and demons waking up with the destruction of the Empty.</p><p>A few times, they also stepped on someone as they raced against the collapse of this eldritch realm. Other than causing them to stumble, they didn’t pay them any mind, single-minded in their escape. The Empty continued to shake with cacophonous rumbles that rattled their teeth and almost sent them stumbling each time they hit.</p><p>It had taken who knows how long to get through the Empty to reach Cas in the first place – at least a couple of hours, if Dean had to guess. Even though they had been walking slowly then and were sprinting now, he wasn’t sure they’d make it back to where they entered in time. The cracking had gained on them, now spreading out underneath their feet as they ran. They were exchanging places in the race, one moment getting a few feet of distance on it, the next being overtaken by a jagged lightning bolt of white along the ground. The walls and sky, or what passed for walls and sky in this place, were also being consumed by the cracks.</p><p>Dean panted; his heart pounded, his throat was dry, his bad knee throbbed in pain. Just ahead of him, Claire’s gait grew uneven, as the leg she had landed on when the Empty tossed her aside was clearly in pain. Cas was beside and just slightly behind him, but he had barely been conscious when they took off, and it seemed like he hadn’t been prepared for this mad dash. And Kaia up front was starting to slow down, unused to this kind of extended sprinting. They weren’t gonna make it.</p><p><em>Gotta pull out the big guns</em>, Dean thought. Given what they knew about the Empty, it was a long shot, but maybe the rules were different now that the master of this realm was dead.</p><p>“Jack! I hope you’ve got your ears on, kiddo, ‘cause we’re gonna need a way out of here, pronto!”</p><p>For a moment, it seemed like Dean’s prayer hadn’t been heard. His heart sank as they ran, a bitter twist in his stomach at the thought of being consumed along with the rest of the Empty, after all the work they had gone through to get Cas out.</p><p>Then, a flash, and an orange-gold fissure of energy hovered in the air. It was maybe fifty feet away, maybe less. Forty. Thirty. The rip between dimensions opened, and Dean could see what could only be the War Room, Jack standing in the centre of the opening, Amara and Rowena on either side. Twenty feet, now. Ten. Five.</p><p>Kaia reached behind her, and Claire thrust her hand into hers. The two of them leapt through the portal side-by-side. The cracks had now extended in front of them, and were almost at the portal.</p><p>Dean felt a shove against his back. He stuttered to a stop and turned to glare at Cas.</p><p>“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snapped.</p><p>“Dean, I appreciate you coming after me, really, but you have to get out of here.” Cas shoved as his shoulder again, but Dean turned with the blow, not letting him move him an inch.</p><p>“Not without you, Cas.”</p><p>“We might not have time for both of us to get out of here! You can’t throw your life away for my sake!”</p><p>“Oh, but you can throw yours away for me? You don’t think you deserve to be saved?” Cas reared back, blinking owlishly at Dean. <em>Yeah, not so fun when it gets thrown back at you, is it, asshole? </em>“We’re not doin’ Purgatory all over again, Cas. Not a chance. I can’t lose you again!”</p><p>With that, Dean spun around so that he was behind Cas, and before the angel could react, he shoved him bodily through the portal. Dean cast a quick glance over his shoulder. The cracks were beginning to widen, streams of blinding white light pouring through them. Bright wisps of blue-white light and plumes of black smoke spiralled through the air and disappeared, one by one.</p><p>Dean turned back around and jumped through the portal.</p>
<hr/><p>“Well! You boys certainly know how to have a party, don’t you?” Rowena said mildly.</p><p>The portal had closed, everyone had caught their breath, and now they were in the process of packing up and getting everyone back to where they needed to be. Dean was sprawled out in a chair near the map table, which Claire and Kaia sat perched on. Claire was sorting through her weapons, figuring out which ones she had brought with her and which ones had come from the Bunker.</p><p>Eileen and Sam were near the door, seeing Rowena out. Cas was talking softly to Adam on the far side of the room. Dean tried not to read too much into that, but the fact that the moment he had come through the portal Cas put as much space and as many people between them as possible stung. Right now, the meat shields between them were Jack and Amara; Jack was staring at Cas with nothing but the utmost admiration, while Amara watched Dean with a soft look of pity on her face.</p><p>“You’re sure all those demons are back in Hell?” Sam asked Rowena.</p><p>“All of them?” She shrugged. “Hard to say. But I could feel the energy of Hell surge – if nothing else, most of them have returned to the Pit. The stragglers will be easy enough to round up.” She glanced over her shoulder at Amara and nodded her way. “Obviously, I’ll be sending the white-eyes and Princes straight to you for unmaking.” Amara smiled softly and nodded back.</p><p>“Sounds like a plan.”</p><p>“And the others?” Eileen asked. Rowena turned to Kaia.</p><p>“You said they were remembering their human lives in the Empty?” she asked. Kaia nodded. “Good. It’ll give them a good wake-up call. Most of them will be easy enough to deal with – now that they’ve remembered their humanity, they shouldn’t be too eager to cause mayhem and suffering. And those that don’t fall in line…” She turned back to Sam and grinned wickedly. “Well, I’m sure I can think of something.”</p><p>“Thank you, Rowena. Seriously, we couldn’t have done this without you.”</p><p>“Of course you couldn’t.” Rowena gave him a look that was somehow both compassionate and condescending. She reached up and cupped his cheek with one hand. “Now you listen here, Samuel; no more of this dimension-hopping, cosmic magic, calling-in-favours business. Next time you come visit, it’s for a bottle of wine and a good bitching.”</p><p>Sam laughed, smiling wide enough to show his dimples. Rowena patted his cheek, and Sam hunched over to sweep her into a hug. Eileen chuckled from beside him, and Dean grinned from across the room. Sam pulled back after a moment, and he and Eileen guided Rowena out of the room to finish up their goodbyes.</p><p>Claire hopped off her perch on the map table and walked over to Cas and Jack.</p><p>“Guess Kaia and I should be heading home now,” she said; Dean assumed she had aimed for nonchalant in her tone of voice, but actually ended up in the vicinity of regretful. She bit her lip as she stood before them, swaying her shoulders as she wavered. In a burst of movement, she flung her arms around Cas and hugged him tightly. Dean watched Cas’ hands come up to her back almost reflexively. The grin that he’d been wearing while watching Sam and Rowena turned soft and fond.</p><p>“I’m glad you’re okay,” Claire said, voice slightly muffled where it was buried in the trenchcoat. Dean watched Cas’ face crumple oh-so slightly, and he burrowed his face into the top of Claire’s head.</p><p>Eventually, she pulled away, scrubbing her hand across her face and not looking anyone in the eye. She turned to Jack and gave him a hug as well, albeit a much less dramatic one. He smiled serenely as he wrapped his arms around her. She pulled out of his grasp a moment or two later and gave him a gentle smack on the shoulder.</p><p>“Take care, baby bro.”</p><p>“I will! Thank you, Claire.” He looked over his shoulder at Kaia. “And thank you – from what you guys said, it sounded like you were super important in the Empty.”</p><p>“It was nothing,” Kaia said. Her cheeks grew red and her gaze slid towards the ground, but a tiny smile made its way onto her face regardless. Claire wrapped an arm around her in a side hug.</p><p>“The most-most important,” she said indulgently. Kaia groaned and buried her face in her hands. Claire just grinned down at her. She turned to the side to look at Dean.</p><p>“You holdin’ up okay, old man?”</p><p>“Who’re you callin’ old?” Dean tried to sound indignant, but it was hard to do when you couldn’t stop smiling. Claire made an exaggerated expression of pain.</p><p>“Oh, my knees just ain’t what they used to be,” she snarked in a crotchety old geezer sort of voice. “Oh, I just can’t run like I used to, these young whippersnappers are so much faster than me.”</p><p>Dean raised his eyebrows at her, and a second later had her in a headlock. Claire shrieked playfully and slapped at his arm.</p><p>“You know, back in my day, you young’uns respected your elders more,” he said, affecting a similar voice. “You should hope I don’t tell Jody on you that you’re out sassing senior citizens, young lady.”</p><p>Claire laughed so hard she got hiccoughs; Dean decided it was time to take pity on her and let her go. He released the headlock and pulled her into a hug. She returned the embrace, still shaking with giggles.</p><p>“You take care too.” He rested his chin on her head so that he could see Kaia. “You let me know if she doesn’t, okay?”</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>Kaia grinned. “I will – <em>and </em>I’ll tell Jody, too.”</p><p>“<em>Whose side are you on?”</em></p><p>Dean laughed and released Claire from the hug. He patted her on the shoulder, then she and Kaia turned and walked out of the room, ready to head back to Sioux Falls.</p><p>Silence hung in the room. After a minute or two, Amara sighed and stretched her arms. She turned towards Jack and rested one hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“Well, I’ll head Upstairs, then; gotta make sure they haven’t burned down the place in the twenty minutes they’ve been unsupervised.”</p><p>Jack smiled at her. “I’ll catch up with you. Are you sure there won’t be any issue before I get there?”</p><p>Amara shrugged. “No idea – guess I’ll find out.” Before she left, she turned to Dean, her back to the rest of the room so that only he could see her face. She raised her eyebrows at him and, with just the tiniest twitch of her head, gestured towards Cas. She shot Dean a significant look.</p><p>He nodded back to her. She studied his face for a moment, then vanished on the spot.</p><p>“And you’re sure all the angels are alive?” Adam asked, clearly continuing the conversation he’d been having earlier with Cas. Jack turned to him and smiled beatifically.</p><p>“He’s alright, Adam. I can hear all of them, feel their grace.” He looked up to address all of them. “I need to go to Heaven for a while – with all of the angels back, things are going to be a little hectic. I need to make sure that they know what happened with Chuck, and that they’re okay with me taking his place. As soon as that’s done, I’ll make sure he gets here,” he nodded at Adam.</p><p>Jack turned back to Dean. “And I’ll come back, too, but I don’t know when that will be. There’s a lot of work that needs to be done in Heaven.”</p><p>Dean stepped forward and pulled Jack to him in a tight hug. “Take as long as you need; we’ll be here when you’re done.” He brought one hand up to the back of Jack’s head. “I’m so proud of you, Jack. Thank you.”</p><p>He felt Jack’s arms wrap around him in return. After a few long moments of warmth, Dean let him go. Jack immediately turned and threw his arms around Cas; Cas chuckled softly and folded him into his embrace.</p><p>“Yes, thank you, Jack.” Cas tipped his head so that his forehead rested against Jack’s. “I love you.”</p><p>Jack pulled back from Cas; his back was to Dean, so he couldn’t see his expression, but he still knew that the biggest, happiest smile was stretched across his face. A flutter of feathers whispered in Dean’s ears, and Jack was gone.</p><p>Not only that, but Adam was gone too. He must have slipped out of the room while they were preoccupied with Jack.</p><p>
  <em>And then there were two.</em>
</p><p>“I should go – Jack will need all the help he can get with rebuilding Heaven.” Cas straightened up and brushed past Dean towards the door. Without a single conscious thought, Dean shot his hand out and grabbed Cas’ wrist. The buckle on the wrist strap dug into his palm. Dean felt Cas tense under his grasp. He looked up at him and waited; a beat of hesitation, then Cas turned his head. Blue eyes met green, and Dean felt his heart pound out of his chest.</p><p>“Cas,” he said, voice rough with emotion. Cas’ words from several months ago rang in his mind: <em>I left, but you didn’t stop me</em>. A cold shiver ran down his spine at the thought that Cas might slip from his hands for good right now, so soon after getting him back. “Stay?”</p><p>Silence. Dean waited, heart in his throat, for Cas to respond. After a pregnant pause, Cas turned slightly, so that their sides were parallel, his head turned to the side to keep his eyes locked on Dean’s. His expression softened.</p><p>“… I won’t be gone long. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”</p><p>His arm slipped from Dean’s hand, his fingers just barely brushing against Dean’s as it fell. In the span of a blink, Cas was gone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading!</p><p>EDIT: I forgot to give credit for inspiration! The Empty's sentry hounds were inspired by a) <a href="https://diaryofageekgirl.tumblr.com/post/186666071809/the-things-i-would-imagine-running-alongside-the">this tumblr post</a> and b) the <a href="https://paranatural.fandom.com/wiki/Vile_Spirits#Gallery">pixelhounds</a> from Paranatural.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Surely Heaven Waits For You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>We're spending some time in Heaven this chapter. The first section is Cas' PoV, and the second is Michael's PoV, just in case anyone is confused.</p><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cas felt his grace slip through the ether, the woven fabric of reality that kept Earth and Heaven and Hell and Purgatory and all other planes of existence separate from one another. His wings – full and healthy for the first time in many years – shifted and pitched, pulling him through dimensions. His feathers trailed through the ether, cutting gaps in the vapour like blades through fog.</p><p>It only took an instant for him to fly from the Bunker to Heaven, though to a human’s eyes he appeared to be teleporting. Cas, however, and any other angel, experienced every nanosecond of their flight. Unfortunately, such heightened senses gave him plenty of time to ruminate on his thoughts.</p><p>When he had sacrificed himself to the Empty, he truly hadn’t had any intention of returning. He had fully expected to stay in the Empty for the rest of eternity. He certainly hadn’t expected Dean to march headlong into the Empty, kill the Entity controlling it, and pull him and every other angel and demon there out. He hadn’t anticipated Dean pulling him out of his eternal torment, punctuated by the very words that Cas had said to him over a decade ago, when he had pulled him from Hell.</p><p>The whole situation had left Cas feeling off-balance. He wasn’t proud of how he acted upon returning to the Bunker – he felt a stab of guilt at using Jack as a buffer between him and Dean, both as a physical barrier and a means to occupy his thoughts while he was there. Making him even more off-balance was the look on Dean’s face, the break in his voice, the curl of his fingers on his wrist, asking – begging – him to stay.</p><p>That was why Winchesters left everything to be said just before their deaths: because facing the aftermath of their words was dreadful in a literal sense. He had no regrets about what he had told Dean, nor was a single breath of it a lie or half-truth. He had just expected, perhaps selfishly, to not have to worry about Dean’s reaction.</p><p>The two of them had a lot to talk about.</p><p>Cas landed in Heaven. Rather than appearing in the cold white halls and sterile architecture of the angels’ side of Heaven, he stood somewhere in the myriad of human memories. It was a beautiful wooded area, with a log cabin a few meters away and a clear blue lake in the distance. Cas barely managed a passing glance over his surroundings before his attention was pulled in another direction.</p><p>He gasped and his eyes fluttered shut. He exhaled shakily, overcome with emotion that he couldn’t hope to describe. He tipped his head back and unfurled his wings, stretching the inky black feathers out as far as they could reach.</p><p>Music. The host was singing, all the frequencies and harmonies of their grace, blending together as they hadn’t done since the dawn of humanity. Ten thousand angels weaved together strands of light and sound into a tapestry of heavenly glory. The bold and brassy tones of the seraphim, the soothing lyrical alto of the hashmallim, the trilling ornamentation of the malakim – even the chime-like ostinato of the cherubim resonated through the halls of Heaven, the sheer joy and power of the host overwhelming.</p><p>Cas smiled and sighed, his eyes still closed and his face still upturned. He let his grace expand and unwind from its place within his vessel and join the host’s chorus. His grace soared, deep and rich and resonant, slotting itself in with the rest of the host. He stood there for an age, letting the grace of his brothers and sisters and siblings wash over him.</p><p>He couldn’t say definitively when the last time Heaven felt like home was. Certainly not since the Apocalypse, and perhaps not since Lucifer fell. The angels had grown cold and distant, keeping their grace close and disconnected from one another, focusing so heavily on God’s plan and the fate that they were destined to carry out. But now, after so long in the Empty, remembering their worst regrets and greatest failures, they were reaching out to one another, melding grace with one another and with the structure of Heaven itself. They actually felt like family again.</p><p>Tears slipped down Cas’ cheeks. He sat down and laid back on the grass and let his true form cascade out from his vessel. He swirled upwards, his arms drifting and trailing through the sky, his wings flung wide. Dozens of angels wheeled through the sky with him, still singing in exaltation.</p><p>He remembered the legions of angels he cut down during the civil war against Raphael, the siblings he had slain who had stood with either Michael or Lucifer during the Apocalypse. He remembered Metatron’s manipulation and the angels falling in fire. He remembered Dean asking him, many years ago, if he was concerned about returning home, if he thought the other angels would kill him for his actions. He remembered saying that seeing Heaven once more might be the very thing that would drive him to take his own life.</p><p>He remembered all of that, but did not feel afraid. After imprisonment in the Empty, after being given a second chance at existence, after Heaven finally being restored from scars many millennia deep, after hearing the song of the host bursting with joy – Cas knew that, regardless of any angel’s opinion of him, there would be no bloodshed in Heaven that day.</p><p>His central face, the one that resembled a blank porcelain mask, continued to sing with the host, while the snow leopard face rumbled a deep purr. Several of his siblings brushed passed him, and a couple of them twirled in a lazy circle around him. Nariel slid the tips of her feathers through Cas’, burgundy against black, Ezekiel twined his rose petal grace around Cas’ quicksilver, and Zarall nuzzled their seahorse head against Cas’ impala.</p><p>Eventually, the commotion died down; the singing didn’t end, but it grew significantly quieter as angels dropped out one-by-one to reunite with one another and resume their duties. Cas slowly lowered his grace back into his vessel, blue-white cosmic quicksilver sliding back down his throat. Slowly, his eyes opened. He couldn’t help the smile that split his tear-stained cheeks, and he couldn’t find it in himself to care.</p><p>As he stood, he heard the flutter of wings and felt the surge of grace as several angels landed near him. He turned to find a half-dozen of his brothers and sisters before him. Brothers and sisters who had, years ago, died by his hand, or had been killed as a result of the domino effect of his actions. His wings rose slightly, defensively, but he relaxed as he noticed their own easy postures and the fact that none had drawn their blades.</p><p>“Castiel,” Anna said with a soft smile as she took a step towards him. On either side of her were Uriel and Balthazar, Samandriel and Rachel, and Hannah stood just behind her.  She stretched out one of her violet wings and brushed the tips of her feathers against Cas’. “Welcome home.”</p><p>“Anna,” Cas breathed. Seeing them again – not just any angels, nor even just any angels that he had slain, but those he took great pride in calling sister and brother – was almost too much to bear. He swept his wings forward and wrapped them around her. He heard her chuckle in his ear, dry but genuine. His eyes widened and he hurriedly stepped back; despite everything that had happened, she <em>was </em>still his superior and commander. He cleared his throat and shuffled his wings back behind him.</p><p>He struggled to find the right words. His heart sang with joy to see them all alive again, but it was bittered by a swirling storm of guilt in his stomach at the memory of his actions. He wanted to reach out to them, to allow their graces to blend, but he was certain that his affection would not be reciprocated – he wouldn’t be surprised at all if at least one of them would decide to take their blade to him if he tried.</p><p>He heard a dry laugh from Balthazar and startled at the sound. He strode forwards and wrapped both his arms and wings around Cas, who disappeared behind a veil of lavender and olive green feathers.</p><p>“No need to be so formal, Cassie. It’s not as if Anael stands on ceremony – do you, sister?” The last part was called over his shoulder to Anna. She chuckled again.</p><p>“Not if I can help it, brother. Not that you’d need any encouragement to be insouciant.”</p><p>Though Cas heard their voices, they faded to the background once he heard his favourite sibling’s nickname for him. Almost as if he was guided by some puppeteer, he brought his arms up and around Balthazar and, to borrow the phrase from Dean, hugged the shit out of him. Balthazar laughed again, louder and more freely, and Cas couldn’t help but join in. He heard the others join them, both with the voices of their vessels as well as their true voices.</p><p>He felt their graces mingling, quicksilver and sand and stone and cool ocean waves. He felt someone’s face – it felt like a rabbit, so probably Samandriel’s – butt up against his. He reached out with his wings; one tangled with Rachel’s stormy blue-grey feathers, the other with Uriel’s deep brick red. Tears streamed down his face once more. If he wasn’t mistaken, he wasn’t the only one crying.</p><p>“I am so, so sorry, brother,” he gasped into Balthazar’s shoulder. “You were right; you saw that the path I was heading down lead to ruin, you tried to stop me, and for that I killed you. I’m so sorry.” He lifted his head and looked over Balthazar’s shoulder to Rachel. “And you did the same, and I gave you the same condemnation in return. You trusted me, and I stabbed you in the back – literally and metaphorically.”</p><p>“Eh, what’s a little betrayal between angels?” Balthazar said. The question appeared flippant, but Cas could hear the wetness of his voice, could feel the tremble in his hands as he embraced him. He tightened his arms around him for a moment, then released him, but kept his hands on his arms. “Nothing that we haven’t experienced before.”</p><p>Rachel gazed at him, impassive. “You did have a truly insane, dangerous, <em>suicidal</em> plan, and you did kill me,” she said slowly. Cas braced himself for her anger, her rage, the cold kiss of her blade between his ribs. “But, you did what you did to protect Earth, to protect humanity, as has always been our charge. I cannot fault you for that.”</p><p>Cas sighed in relief and let his wings slump down towards the ground. He reached a hand out towards her; she slipped her hand into his and squeezed it gently. He smiled at her, and though she did not return the gesture, her expression and posture softened.</p><p>“I was your lieutenant during the civil war against Raphael. I trusted you then, and I trust you now.” She squeezed his hand again. “Desperation makes fools of us all. Just… don’t do it again.” He laughed, choked by tears at her words. She nodded and stepped back, letting another step forwards to stand before him. Balthazar, of course, stayed right where he was, halfway in front of him and refusing to relinquish the hold on his arm. Cas’ smile faltered as he turned his gaze towards Samandriel. He opened his mouth to speak, but his youngest brother held up a hand to stop him.</p><p>“You were being brainwashed. Many of us were, for many millennia. I don’t blame you for any of it – Naomi was the one responsible for my death.”</p><p>Cas shuddered at the mention of her name. She had to be here in Heaven somewhere – she wasn’t fond of excursions to Earth, and she had been in charge when Cas was last here. He supposed Jack and the archangels would figure out what to do about her.</p><p>Anna – now Anael once more – nodded her assent to Samandriel’s words. “We both know how cruel her reprogramming was. I’m sorry,” she said, reaching up to place a hand on Cas’ shoulder, “for trying to kill you, and the Winchesters.”</p><p>He reached up and grasped her hand with his. “As you said, we know reprogramming well. That wasn’t your fault, sister. I’m sorry for turning you in to them.”</p><p>“If I’m not to blame for what happened as a result of her manipulation, they you aren’t to blame, either.”  She smiled at him, then stepped back. She and Samandriel spread their wings and departed, having said their piece. Hannah walked towards him to fill the void they left, and rather than just walk up to him, she nudged Balthazar out of the way and wrapped her arms around him.</p><p>“I’m pleased that you’re alright, Castiel,” she said. Cas hugged her back, his head balanced on top of hers and his obsidian wings falling like a curtain around her sky blue ones. A thought occurred to him. He furrowed his brow, glancing down at her.</p><p>“Why do you look like Caroline? You gave her up as a vessel, and when you died you had taken another.”</p><p>“It’s not her – I cannot hear her thoughts, nor feel her soul,” Hannah said. She shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, I fear.”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter now,” Cas said, as he stepped back from the embrace. He slid his hands away from Hannah’s back until he grasped both of her hands in both of his. “I’m very glad you’re well, Hannah. I’m so sorry for everything that happened between us.”</p><p>Hannah smiled up at him. She placed her hands on each side of Cas’ face and tipped his head down to brush her lips against his forehead.</p><p>“Don’t be. Metatron was stopped, Heaven is restored, and the angels live again. It just… took a very different path to get here than the one I had expected.”</p><p>Just like Anael and Samandriel, she turned and strode a few paces away, then spread her wings and flew off to another location within Heaven. Rachel nodded at him once again from her place beside Balthazar, before she too disembarked. His gaze lingered at the place they had left, mind and heart and grace alike still buzzing with joy at the fact that they were once again alive. After a long moment, he pulled his attention back to the brothers still before him.</p><p>Uriel strode towards him, hands in his pockets and a slight smirk on his vessel’s face. His central porcelain mask-like face was as stoic as ever, but the dolphin head to one side of it had its mouth open in a grin, and the panther head on the other side had just the tip of its tongue sticking out. He remembered Claire showing him cat videos online, and calling that particular expression a “blep”; he wasn’t quite sure why.</p><p>“Castiel,” Uriel rumbled, his voice even lower that Cas’ own. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”</p><p>“It has,” Cas replied. He stepped forwards and clasped one of Uriel’s hands, pulling him into a hug. He had once told Dean that Uriel was the funniest angel in the garrison. It may have seemed ironic at the time, but Cas still remembered who his brother had been once, before God had left and Lucifer had poisoned his mind. He had been jovial and bright – his name meant “God is my light”, and he fit the part – and one of the most loving of the host. His calling had once been that of a caretaker, back when new angels were still being created and they required guidance and care in their early existence.</p><p>“It’s good to see you restored, Uriel. It’s been an age since I last saw you this happy.” He drew back slightly, only enough so that he could see Uriel’s face.</p><p>“You were right. Well –” he cut himself off with a tilt of his head – “not about the choosing to ally with Lucifer part, but the rest. God was gone, and he didn’t care about any of us anymore. I only wish I had realized that sooner.”</p><p>Uriel raised his eyebrows and his wings puffed slightly, clearly showing his surprise. “Maybe I was right about God abandoning us; but I was wrong about using that as an excuse to forget our charge. We had been tasked to watch over humanity, and I in particular was created to be a protector. Too many of us have strayed from that path. You were the only one of us who remembered our purpose.” He brought a hand up to the back of Cas’ head and pushed it forward until their foreheads were touching. Cas closed his eyes, basking in his brother’s grace.</p><p>“It’s been far too long, Urie, I forgot how touchy-feely you could be,” Balthazar drawled. Uriel pulled back from Cas and chuckled warmly as he looked over at Balthazar.</p><p>“And I forgot how damned irreverent you are at all times.” Balthazar just tipped his head back and laughed, his goat head gently head-butting Uriel’s panther head as he threw his arms and wings around him. Cas smiled, before a lavender and olive wing slipped around behind him and shoved him forwards. He squawked in surprise, earning cackling laughter from both of his brothers, and was folded into their embrace.</p><p>“I hear you had quite the hand to play in all of this, Cassie,” Balthazar said. “Can’t let you out of our sight for a second, can we?”</p><p>“If you’re referring to Chuck’s defeat, then my only real involvement in that was throwing my lot in with the Winchesters.”</p><p>“Really? So the nephil who’s taken on dear old Dad’s power, restored Heaven, and calls you his father has nothing to do with you?”</p><p>Cas drew back. “I’m very proud of Jack,” he murmured. He looked up at Balthazar and Uriel. “That won’t be an issue, will it? That he’s a nephil?”</p><p>“I certainly wouldn’t have willingly followed such an abomination in the past,” Uriel said. He paused for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders. “But, there’s quite a bit that’s changed in the past few years. I have no quarrel with the boy.”</p><p>Balthazar slung an arm loosely over Uriel’s shoulder. “Well, you know me, Cassie; any opportunity to shake things up a little.” He jostled Uriel. “And abomination, Urie? Are you kidding me? The kid’s adorable – just like Isaac, except less of a whiner. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. You’d never be able to tell he was Lucifer’s spawn.”</p><p>Cas was glad to have their support, both for him and for Jack. He smiled fondly at the two of them, so unalike but both so dear to him.</p><p>He felt another familiar grace reaching out to him, pale gold instead of blue-white. He inhaled sharply and glanced upwards at the feeling. Jack’s voice – his true voice – reached out to him through Angel Radio. He listened to what his son had to say, then turned back to his brothers. They were watching him, curiosity plain on all of their faces.</p><p>“I’m needed elsewhere. I’m sure I’ll see you again before I leave Heaven.” He brushed the tips of their feathers one last time with his own, then took off in flight once more to meet with Jack.</p><hr/><p>Michael did not know which soul’s Heaven he landed in, nor did he care. Not when the voices of all his younger siblings, whole and bright and ecstatic, rang out throughout the halls of Heaven. He stood on the edge of a cliff, eyes closed and wings outstretched, the crimson and violet feathers pulsing with pale gold grace as both he and Heaven were restored. Tears streamed unabashed down his face. He could not remember the last time he had felt joy in Heaven. All he remembered was cold logic and single-minded adherence to their Father’s will. All he remembered was enforcing both. How wrong he had been.</p><p>Michael held his arms out in front of him, palms spread and turned upwards as if he could catch the grace flowing freely through Heaven. If he were to hazard a guess, he would assume that Jack had made this new vessel for him – tall and strong, with wood-brown skin and bright eyes. Even though it wasn’t technically his true vessel, it was perhaps the first human visage he had worn that felt like him. He opened his eyes and smiled, wide and euphoric.</p><p>“Wow, what happened to your face, Mikey? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that before. Didn’t know you knew how.”</p><p>“Brother, please; can we go one day after being resurrected without infighting?”</p><p>“Aw, c’mon, a little teasing never hurt anybody. It’s how I show love.”</p><p>Michael chuckled at the voices behind him and turned to face them.</p><p>“Gabriel. Raphael.” He swept his wings out to embrace them, bright gold and dark silver swallowed up by blood and wine as he pulled them close. Gabriel squirmed and squawked, faking offense at the embrace, though Michael could feel the delight radiating from his grace. Raphael just smiled softly and combed one hand through Michael’s wing. “It brings me great joy to see you both again.”</p><p>“And us, you, brother,” Raphael said. She drew back, trailing her hand down Michael’s arm. Gabriel disentangled himself, valiantly attempting to scowl despite the grin forcing its way onto his face.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, missed you too, love you, whatever.” Michael smirked and made a show of letting his eyes light up gold with grace as he looked at Gabriel’s trueform. His fox face grinned and the kookaburra cackled. Michael couldn’t see the bumblebee head from his current position, but the other two proved his point clearly enough. He returned his senses to his vessel and cocked an eyebrow at his younger brother.</p><p>“Shut up,” Gabriel said, nudging him in the side with an elbow. Michael just chuckled again at his antics. He watched Gabriel turn to look up at him from his place beside him. He raised his eyebrows at him in turn. “Seriously though, it’s weird seeing you laugh. A lot’s changed, hasn’t it?”</p><p>The fluttering of wings and a surge of power cut off whatever reply Michael may have had to Gabriel’s question. Michael glanced over and saw the nephil, Jack, standing just off to the side, with Amara beside him. Jack stayed where he was, eyes flaring white-gold with grace as he stared off into the distance, but Amara made her way over to where the gathered archangels stood.</p><p>“Hello nephews, niece.” She nodded at each of them in turn. “I trust you’ve been caught up on everything?”</p><p>Gabriel counted off on his fingers: “Dad’s stripped of power, the Empty got its ass kicked by a college-aged girl, all of us are alive again after watching our worst memories on repeat,” he cut himself off with a distant look in his eyes. After a moment, he shook himself and continued, “and our favourite nephew is now Toddler-In-Chief. Did I miss anything?” he asked, brows quirked.</p><p>“Well, you got most of it,” Amara allowed. She held her hand out beside her, and a shimmering black and silver scythe materialized in it. Michael’s eyebrows shot up and Gabriel whistled lowly from beside him.</p><p>“Damn, auntie, you got yourself a promotion! Very nice.”</p><p>“Thank you,” she said, incredibly self-satisfied.</p><p>“I assume the Endless Library will be restored much like Heaven will?” Michael asked. He hadn’t ever spent much time with Amara, but the impression he had of her was of someone with grand ideas and the power to make them happen. And a flair for the dramatic, but that seemed to be fairly common in their family.</p><p>“It will. The slain reapers were resurrected along with the angels and demons, and there’s going to be some significant restructuring of the ranks happening there. Not to mention the architecture – it’s so <em>grey</em>. Just because we represent Death doesn’t mean we have to be dull about it.”</p><p>“You’ll have to give us the tour when you’re done – complimentary champagne and hor d’ouevres and all,” Gabriel winked. Raphael rolled her eyes and smacked him on the back of the head with her wing.</p><p>“If you need our assistance in any way, we’d be glad to help, Amara,” she said.</p><p>“What she said,” muttered Gabriel as he rubbed his head. Amara nodded her thanks with a soft smile. She turned to glance over her shoulder, and Michael watched as Jack approached them now, with Castiel in tow.</p><p>“Hello,” Jack said, his hand raised in a still wave. Even though is voice didn’t waver, Michael could feel the nervous energy spilling out from his grace. In a blink, Gabriel flew the two feet it took to be beside him.</p><p>“Relax, kiddo.” He draped a wing around Jack’s shoulder, the bright gold a beautiful compliment to Jack’s own pale yellow. “No one here’s gonna smite ya. Right, Cassie?” He shot over his shoulder.</p><p>“As usual, you have a knack for not actually improving a situation, Gabriel,” Castiel deadpanned. Both Michael and Raphael chuckled, which only intensified into full-fledged laughter at Gabriel’s indignant spluttering.</p><p>“Oh, someone got snarky, being with the Winchesters all this time. I’ll have you know –” another wing stretched out to wrap around Castiel’s shoulder and pull him closer – “that I am always a boon to every situation.”</p><p>“Sodom and Gomorrah would beg to differ,” Raphael interjected.</p><p>“Oh, sure, ‘cuz you’ve never razed a city before,” Gabriel shot back. Regardless of the validity of either of their arguments, their banter seemed to put the young nephil at ease, as his shoulders and wings relaxed. Gabriel disappeared from beside him and reappeared back next to Raphael.</p><p>“So, I guess you guys already know about what happened with Chuck,” Jack said, still somewhat timidly.</p><p>“We do, and it’s clear from your grace that you now hold his power.” Michael nodded towards him.</p><p>“You got big plans for how to fix Heaven? Gonna create some new species in the Garden? Bring back the dinosaurs?” Gabriel asked. Jack shook his head.</p><p>“No, I – I don’t want to do any of that; well, Heaven <em>does </em>need some work, after several civil wars, but that’s not the point. I don’t want this.” He placed a hand flat against his chest and looked up at them, eyes earnest. Michael felt a twinge of sympathy for the child.</p><p>“It is a great responsibility, to have the power of God,” Raphael said gently. “You are certainly capable of handling it.”</p><p>“I know I’m capable, but I don’t want it! I’m just a kid,” Jack murmured as he bowed his head. Castiel reached up and placed a hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“You don’t need to keep it for yourself if you don’t want to, Jack,” he reassured him. Jack glanced up at Castiel, then turned wide eyes to the archangels.</p><p>With no more warning than that, his eyes flared white with just a hint of gold at the centre, and three tendrils of white grace extended from his heart. One latched on to Raphael’s grace, the second to Gabriel’s, and then the third was twining itself around Michael’s trueform. He gasped as the pure crystalline power of Creation slotted itself along the tendrils of his own power, a tiny nuclear core to the solar plasma of his grace. He felt his elk head grow another set of antlers, and his tiger head let out a triumphant roar at the surge of power.</p><p>He slumped forwards as the tendril cut itself off and caught his upper arms on his knees. He saw Gabriel in a similar position, the crystal shards of his trueform spinning rapidly around one another, rearranging themselves to fit several new pieces amongst them. Raphael’s elephant head had two more tusks than it had before, and she let out a ragged gasp as the final tendril left her. A few stray sparks of lighting flickered off of her trueform, singeing the grass around her feet.</p><p>Michael panted, for perhaps the first time in his very long existence short of breath. “Did – did you just give us his power?”</p><p>“Yep! Or, well, three-quarters of it. I figured that the biggest problem that Heaven’s had is that it always had one person trying to control it. If all four of us share leadership, then it’ll work better. Right?”</p><p>Gabriel chuckled and shook his head slowly. “You’re something else, kiddo.” He reached up and ruffled Jack’s hair. “Would’ya look at that – all four of us, back together. The Warrior, the Healer, the Messenger, and the Morningstar. Kind of.”</p><p>“No,” Michael interjected. “Not the Morningstar.” He walked forward to stand directly before Jack. “Lucifer may have been the source of your grace, but you are not him, and he could not hope to be you.” He brought a hand beneath Jack’s chin and gently tipped it up so that the nephil was looking him directly in the eye. “You are the Dawnlight, the beginning of a new age in Heaven.”</p><p>Jack grinned, wide and delighted, up at him. Michael smiled softly back at him. He watched the expression slowly fall from his face, and he looked concerned once again.</p><p>“Actually, that’s something else I needed to discuss with you guys.” He reached into some inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a glowing mote of grace, almost resembling a miniature star. But instead of the blue-white light of the majority of angels, or the pale gold of the archangels, or even the soft pink of the cherubim, this was a deep, angry red. Michael could feel the icy sting emanating from it, particularly uncomfortable against the heat of his own grace.</p><p>“Lucifer,” he breathed.</p><p>“I found him as soon as the Empty died,” Jack said, quietly. “I wasn’t sure what to do, but I knew I couldn’t just let him out like everyone else.”</p><p>Michael felt his siblings’ grace as they approached, but his gaze was fixed on the grace in Jack’s hands. A thousand thoughts swirled through his mind – rage for everything that he had been through at his brother’s hand, grief for the brilliant Morningstar that he once was, guilt for blindly following his Father’s path, even more guilt for feeling guilty in the first place.</p><p>
  <em>He should destroy him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He should give him a second chance. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He's had so many second and third and hundredth chances already.</em>
</p><p>“As far as I can tell, you’ve got three options,” Gabriel said. His voice was tight, and Michael knew that while he and Lucifer were the closest, Gabriel adored the Morningstar in their youth. Gabe counted them off on his fingers. “One, you can let him live like the rest of the angels; make a new vessel for him like you did for Mikey here, and let him be on his merry way.”</p><p>“No.” Jack shook his head. “Not after everything – no, I can’t.</p><p>“Good, I was hoping you wouldn’t pick that,” Gabriel said bitterly. “Option two, you repurpose his grace. Put it into some new form of Creation – I wasn’t entirely kidding about that whole ‘new-species-in-the-Garden’ thing. Or use it to replenish nature on Earth. Or put it back into Heaven’s infrastructure.”</p><p>Jack’s brow furrowed as he stared down at the grace. “If it’s his grace… would whatever I put it in become corrupted? Like him?”</p><p>“We can’t be sure,” Raphael said. “Only four other angels had ever been corrupted as he had, and he was the only archangel to reach that state. There’s no way of knowing what might happen with it.”</p><p>Jack tipped his head to the side and glanced back up at Gabriel. “What’s option three?”</p><p>“Well, you’ve got Death herself right here,” he said, jerking his thumb towards her. “You can just pass him over to her to be unmade.”</p><p>Jack looked even more conflicted than he had before. Castiel squeezed his shoulder.</p><p>“No one would ask you to take a life so easily, Jack. No matter how much he might deserve it,” he muttered under his breath.</p><p>“Is it possible, if I let him live, that he would change? After remembering everything in the Empty?” Jack asked.</p><p>“Everyone is capable of change,” Raphael said. “What’s really in question is, would he want to? Would he actually try?”</p><p>Silence fell over them. All of them stared down at the swirling red grace; for three of them, he was the final component of their quartet, the only other brother who truly understood their position. For another, he was the biological father that tried to force his way into his life, ignoring how unwanted he was. For yet another, he was someone who had forced her to be chained and imprisoned for an eternity, but who had borne the scar of her power. For the last of them, he was a personal torturer, wearing his face to taunt and torment the people he loved most.</p><p>At long last, Jack quietly, sadly, turned to Amara. He didn’t ask her for anything. All he did was outstretch his hands. She nodded, equally sadly, and carefully cut her scythe cleanly through his grace. The red glow sparked and fizzled as it cut, and but a moment later was no more.</p><p>The silence hung heavy for a moment longer, before Amara dismissed her scythe.</p><p>“Well, I should be going. The reapers aren’t going to organize themselves – well, they will, but they’ll do it wrong,” she said. She sent one more smile towards the archangels, ruffled Jack’s hair, and hugged Castiel, and then she was gone.</p><p>“So!” Gabriel said, clapping his hands together to break up the tense atmosphere. “What’s next, Jackie boy? You got plans for fixing things up around here?”</p><p>“Yes – well, not plans, per say, but ideas.” Jack turned his head out over the cliff, casting his gaze over all of Heaven. “First, I want to break down the barriers between people’s heavens. People shouldn’t be isolated, even if they’re dead.” He turned back towards them, brows furrowed as he thought. “Maybe start by organizing them into communities based on who they knew when they were alive? They would be free to leave and explore Heaven if they wanted to, of course. And other afterlives, too! Just because they believed different things in life doesn’t mean that they should be cut off from one another after death.”</p><p>Gabriel looked thoughtful. “I’m pretty sure there’s a couple of pagans that don’t hate me; Thor definitely doesn’t, I’m pretty sure I’ve still got an in with Hermes, who knows about Kali,” he said with a shrug. “I can start working that angle – open up some pathways between realms. There’d still have to be some rules about how long souls can visit one another, and they can’t stay in another afterlife for good, but hey, it’s something.”</p><p>“Purgatory,” Castiel stepped in. Michael turned to him, brows raised.</p><p>“You would have a pathway connecting Purgatory and Heaven?”</p><p>“No, no,” he shook his head, “I mean that Purgatory needs to be changed. Obviously it needs to stay as a prison for the Leviathan, but… so many of the souls there are innocent. People who were turned against their will, people who took great strides to never hurt innocent humans once they <em>were </em>turned. And some, like shapeshifters, that can go through life exactly as an ordinary human would, but are condemned to endlessly fighting for their life once they die?”</p><p>“From my understanding,” Raphael said slowly, “Purgatory doesn’t have a leader anymore. It will take some time to go through every soul there, to determine where they should end up –”</p><p>“But it’ll be worth it,” Gabriel interrupted. “You’re right, Cassie; there’s a lot of good people who ended up there because of something they had no control over. We can get in touch with Amara, maybe set up a team of reapers to work on vetting everybody?”</p><p>“That should work,” Raphael conceded. “Obviously, precautions will need to be taken about the Leviathan. One of the archangels will need to be present while they work as protection.”</p><p>“I see no reason why that shouldn’t work,” Michael said. His elk head shook, its antlers swaying with the momentum of the action. It was humbling to see the many oversights that had occurred under his leadership of Heaven. At least now they had the chance to make things better.</p><p>Jack raised a hand tentatively, before continuing speaking.“I also want to make sure the angels are okay? Spending years, or decades, or for some of them centuries in the Empty… it’s not something easily dealt with. And I know right now most of them are just happy to be alive, but there’s been some bad blood between the host. There’ve been civil wars and Apocalypses and personal betrayals…” He trailed off.</p><p>“There have been some of the host that may need close examination,” Castiel said. “While they may have had a change of heart during their time in the Empty, I personally wouldn’t feel comfortable allowing them to retain their former position in Heaven, not with how they abused them before.”</p><p>“Who are you thinking of, specifically?” Michael asked. He could feel his wings puff up slightly; even during his millennia of malaise and cold anger, when he cared for nothing more than following his Father’s plan, he always put the protection of Heaven as his first priority. To think that members of the host had deliberately undermined them under his command…</p><p>“Bartholomew and Zachariah, certainly.” Castiel took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Naomi.”</p><p>“Naomi?” Raphael asked. “One of my hashmallim? She was a mind-healer, if I recall, and quite gifted as well.”</p><p>“Well, it’s been some time since she used her gifts for their intended purpose,” Castiel grit out.</p><p>Raphael looked confused. “Explain.”</p><p>Castiel sighed. “Brainwashing. She’d wipe the minds of any angel she believed to have strayed too far from their purpose, or who started to show signs of emotion or free will. She’d implant fake memories, or just wholesale remove them.” Michael could feel the horror rolling off of both him and his fellow archangels; he wasn’t sure if Castiel noticed, or if he was just desensitized to the atrocities that he was describing. The thought made him vaguely ill. “I only know with certainty that myself and Anael were victims of this, but as far as I know she could have brainwashed the entire host.”</p><p>Another few tongues of lighting sparked from Raphael’s grace. Michael and Gabriel both stumbled back a step to avoid being zapped. Raphael’s faces – all of them – had gone stony, and she tilted her chin up to Castiel.</p><p>“Rest assured, I will be keeping a very close eye on her actions. She and the others you mentioned will be under strict observation, and they will not be allowed to return to their former posts. There may also be stricter punishments, depending on our findings.” As she finished her tirade, her expression softened. “Thank you, Castiel.”</p><p>“I also had another idea for the angels,” Jack said. “I tested it out with Michael and a few others already, but I think the angels shouldn’t use people as vessels anymore. Too many innocent people have been killed, and too many families have been hurt by it already. With the four of us holding part of God’s power, we can create empty vessels capable of holding an angel’s grace without issue. And the angels can visit Earth, if they want, as long as they don’t interfere too much.”</p><p>Michael’s heart leapt at the thought. “You’ve put a great deal of thought into this. I must admit, while I do wish to help restore Heaven to its former glory, and I would like to help you find your place amongst the host, I find myself longing to return to Earth.”</p><p>“You sick of us already, Mikey?” Gabriel asked with a smirk. Michael smirked right back and cast him a sidelong glance.</p><p>“I seem to recall you being quite eager to visit Earth in the past, brother.” Gabriel rolled his eyes, which Michael chuckled at. “There are things, people, on Earth that are valuable to me. I would not give that up for anything.”</p><p>Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up. “Geez, you’re dead for a few years and you miss <em>all </em>the good gossip.” He slung an arm around Michael’s shoulders. “First Cassie, now you – soon the whole host will have fallen in love with a human.”</p><p>“I’d rather that than the disdain and hatred that many among us have shown to humanity in the past,” Castiel said, deadpan.</p><p>“I imagine you’d be dipping as well, then?” Gabriel shot back. No verbal response was necessary from Castiel, not with the way his wings fluffed up and his snow leopard and impala head ducked bashfully away from his elder siblings’ gazes. Gabriel tipped his head back and laughed uproariously. “Go on then, you lovebirds; Raph and I can hold down the fort for now.”</p><p>“I would have expected you to take the first opportunity to return to Earth,” Raphael said, faint surprise colouring her tone.</p><p>“Nah. It’s been a while since I’ve really been a big brother. You’ve gotta stop running at some point, right?” Gabriel said as he turned to her. His voice was fond and soft in a way that Michael hadn’t heard from him in many eons.</p><p>“I’ll stay for a little while too,” Jack said. “I want to at least get some of my ideas started, and the rest of the host can take things from there.” He turned to Castiel. “Can you tell Sam and Dean that I’ll be home soon? Maybe in a week or two?”</p><p>“I will.” Castiel turned his gaze from his son to Michael, as Jack, Gabriel, and Raphael flew off, presumably to the throne room.</p><p>“I believe we both have unfinished business on Earth, little brother,” Michael said. He grinned at the blush staining Castiel’s vessel, and wrapped one crimson and violet wing around his shoulders. “I have seen you face down the legions of Hell with less trepidation than this, Castiel.”</p><p>“Facing down the legions of Hell is precisely how I ended up in this situation,” Castiel muttered, but spread his inky black wings just the same and took off into the ether. Michael laughed once more and followed his younger brother back down from Heaven.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For the record, my faceclaim for Michael is Michael Ealy. I wanted him to have his own appearance that wasn't the same as an established character (Dean, John, Adam), and I wanted him to remain distinct from Apocalypse World Michael. Also Michael Ealy could <em>easily</em> play an archangel.</p><p>Also, I recognize that Anna canonically wasn't Anael, and that's Sister Jo's real name, but given that it's a stupid-ass canon I've elected to ignore it.</p><p>TBH, this chapter was at least 50% an excuse to include my various angel headcanons. All regular angels have 3 faces, one in the centre that resembles a blank porcelain mask, and two others that take the form of animals. Archangels have 4, with one more animals face. I also firmly believe that the archangels should have had gold grace from the get-go, and Jack has gold grace not because he's a nephil, but because he's an <em>arch</em>nephil specifically. All angels' grace also takes the form of some natural substance - for example, Cas' is quicksilver, Balthazar's is sand, and a few others are mentioned as well.</p><p>I also largely ignore """"typical"""" angel hierarchy in favour for my own bullshit. Essentially, the seraphim are the soldiers and warriors under Michael's command, the hashmallim are healers and caretakers under Raphael, and the malakim are the messengers under Gabriel. The cherubim were originally under Lucifer's command, but after his fall their power was reduced and they ended up also being under Gabriel's command. I could go on, so if anyone has any particular questions relating to how much I think about angels and heaven in the context of Supernatural, just ask!</p><p>Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Nothing Equals the Splendor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here we are folks - the end of the road. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy this final chapter.</p><p>(To anyone reading as this updates, today - Jan 31 2021 - I posted a fairly large edit to chapter 4 as well. So you may want to go back and reread that chapter.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Adam was, for lack of a better word, listless.</p><p>It was three days ago that Dean, Claire, and Kaia had successfully defeated the Empty and freed the angels and demons within. Three days since Michael had been brought back to life. Obviously, he knew that time moved differently in Heaven than on Earth, and from Michael’s perspective he may have only been gone for a few hours, but that didn’t make the wait any easier.</p><p>He also felt… well, he wasn’t sure what the word to describe it would be. Unmoored, maybe. It was the first time in 1200 years that his soul wasn’t snuggled up against the blazing inferno of an archangel’s grace. He was cold, now, not used to how normal, comfortable temperatures were supposed to feel against his skin. His voice was the only thing in his head; he kept making remarks and observations and jokes, both out loud and in his thoughts. He kept forgetting Michael wasn’t there to answer.</p><p>He wandered through the halls of the Bunker, never quite sure what to do or where to go. He picked at his food, not because he wasn’t hungry but because he couldn’t get his stomach to settle.</p><p><em>Everything’s fine. Michael’s fine. Heaven’s fine.</em> No matter how many times he reassured himself, he didn’t quite believe it. He knew how judgmental and cold the angels could be, and he knew that while Michael cared for him, he <em>was </em>an archangel, and the oldest archangel at that, <em>and </em>he had former experience leading Heaven. He might not have been able to –</p><p>He swiftly cut that thought off before it could fully form. There was no point getting worked up over something that he both had no control over and no idea of the full scope of. He just needed to wait (and wait and wait and <em>wait</em>) for more information. Obviously, he hoped that would be in the form of Michael returning, but even Castiel or Jack returning or some other angel showing up to explain the situation would do in a pinch.</p><p>Three nights in a row, Adam prayed before going to bed. He hadn’t really prayed like this since he was a little kid – his grandparents had been fairly religious, and while they were still alive, he and his mother practiced alongside them, but Adam had drifted away from faith midway through high school. After that, he hadn’t needed to pray.</p><p>Not when he had an archangel with him with every step.</p><p>“Hey, Michael. I hope you’re listening.” He sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed in the room he was staying in in the Bunker (as he stopped himself from calling it <em>his room </em>or <em>his bed</em>), his eyes shut and head tipped down. He breathed deeply and slowly and released the breath just as slowly. As he exhaled, the worry and stress drained from his shoulders and they sagged as if weighed down by heavy stones. Somehow, that was a good thing.</p><p>“I hope everything’s going well in Heaven – I’m pretty sure you would’ve figured out a way to let me know by now if it wasn’t,” he huffed, the tiniest of smiles tugging at one corner of his mouth. “And I know how much you complained about how long-winded your younger siblings can be, so I’m sure it’s taking way longer than necessary to get things sorted out up there.”</p><p>He faltered, uncertain of what to say next. What did you say in a prayer to a being that you’d spent more than a millennium in close contact with? Did you even need to say anything? He swallowed and started speaking again, his voice just a touch rougher than it was before.</p><p>“Anyways, you’ll be back soon, right? So you can tell me about it when you’re here.” He took another deep breath. “I love you,” he murmured. “Be safe.”</p><p>His prayers on the second and third nights followed in much the same pattern – questions about what was happening in Heaven, reassurances both to himself and the missing archangel, and a reminder of their love to top it off. A tiny, petty part of Adam hoped that, if the rest of the angels wanted Michael to stay and lead, that little reminder would be enough to sway him from that.</p><p>He wasn’t the only one handling the wait poorly; Dean was even worse than he was, pacing impatiently through the Bunker’s halls, intermittently snapping at everyone and silently moping around. Just about every time Adam saw him through those days, he had his eyes squeezed shut, chin tipped up, lips just barely moving as he prayed.</p><p>Sam had filled Adam in on what had happened with him and Castiel. Despite the tension that still existed between him and his half-brothers, he couldn’t help but feel for him. At least Adam knew where he and Michael stood.</p><p>Adam sighed and checked his watch for probably the billionth time. Nine fifty-four pm. The fourth day since the Empty’s death was rapidly drawing to a close, and still no word from any of the angels. He hauled himself up from the kitchen table, where he’d been sitting since dinner, not particularly motivated to get up and do anything since then. He trudged down the hallway to his – <em>no not his </em>– bedroom. He leaned heavily on the door in resignation as he swung it open, practically falling through it as he entered the room.</p><p>And then with a yelp, he did fall; or at least he would have, if strong arms hadn’t caught him around his upper arms at the last second. Bright blue eyes stared into his, concern etched into the other man’s face. He had dark curly hair and a jawline that could cut glass. Adam hadn’t seen him before in his life, but he had no doubt in his mind of who he was.</p><p>“Adam, are you alright? I didn’t mean to alarm you.” His voice was beautiful, as it Adam always thought it was, but it was strange to hear his cadence spoken with a voice that wasn’t his.</p><p>“Michael,” he breathed, wide-eyed. He scrambled to get his feet underneath him again. His hands slid down Michael’s arms as he used them for leverage to stand, all the while not breaking eye contact. “You – how’d it – are you – did –” Adam blinked, glancing down at where his hands grasped Michael’s forearms. “What’s with the new vessel?”</p><p>Michael chuckled warmly. “A gift, supposedly, from Jack. He wants the host to refrain from taking humans as vessels and disrupting their lives. I can’t say I disagree with his judgment.”</p><p>“What else did he say,” Adam asked, with more than a hint of trepidation. He felt Michael’s hands slipped up to catch his own. The archangel smiled softly as he twined their fingers together, and a feather-light kiss was pressed into the centre of his forehead. Adam’s heart stuttered for a moment at the feeling; twelve hundred years and he hadn’t ever really felt his lover’s lips before, only the incredibly vivid illusion of them.</p><p>“I heard your prayers, Adam. I’m sorry I was unable to respond to them, to assure you that you didn’t need to worry. A great deal of work needs to happen in Heaven, and I will assist – both because I have been asked to, and because I feel it wouldn’t be right for me to stand aside and force my siblings to fix things, especially considering how much of what went wrong with Heaven was under my leadership.” His right thumb rubbed circles into the first knuckle of Adam’s index finger; Adam stared down at it, transfixed at the warmth and real, physical sensation.</p><p>“However,” Michael continued, “we’ve been able to come to an agreement; Gabriel and Raphael will oversee the majority of the restoration efforts, and any angel who wishes to visit Earth – for any length of time – will be able to do so.”</p><p>Adams eyes flew up to meet Michael’s once more. “You can stay?”</p><p>“I can stay. I’ll have to visit Heaven on occasion, but I can do that while you sleep, or when you’re otherwise occupied. Aside from that… I believe the phrase is “you’re stuck with me”.”</p><p>Adam grinned, bright and completely uncontrollable. He leapt forwards and wrapped his arms around Michael, laughing and sobbing in equal measure. Strong arms slipped around his back and pressed him closer to his chest. A soft rustling filled Adam’s ears, and a curtain of red and purple feathers surrounded him a moment later as well. He tucked his face into the crook of Michael’s neck, marvelling anew at the fact that he could do so, and that he fit so perfectly in that space.</p><p>Gradually, his breathing evened out and his crying quieted. He pulled back just enough to be able to look Michael in the face again.</p><p>“Sam told me what happened with Chuck,” he said, his voice still a little watery. Michael’s eyes grew sad, but Adam pressed on. “I thought we agreed it wasn’t worth it, trying to reason with him.”</p><p>“He wasn’t worth it,” Michael said, “but you are. Don’t ever doubt the lengths that I would go to for you, Adam.”</p><p>The breath caught in Adam’s throat, and another sob threatened to break its way out of him. He huffed a weak laugh and smiled up at Michael.</p><p>“You know, even after everything, I’m actually a little thankful that Chuck killed you? Not that you died, obviously,” he hurried to clarify, “but that Jack brought you back like this.”</p><p>“Oh?” Michael’s eyebrows quirked up towards his hair. “And why is that?”</p><p>“Because now I can do this.”</p><p>Adam reached up and wrapped his arms around Michael’s neck, one hand slipping up to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. He tipped his head up and, eyes fluttering shut, crushed his lips against Michael’s. He felt Michael’s hand slide up his neck until it cupped his jaw, strong but oh so gentle.</p><p>His breath shuddered into the kiss; somehow he tried to press himself even closer into Michael, tried to put more than a millennium of devotion but with no physical contact into the point where their mouths met. It was a long moment before they separated again, but since Michael had a different vessel, Adam <em>did </em>actually need to breathe.</p><p>He panted as he pulled back, blood thrumming and heart pounding. He watched as Michael’s eyes slowly opened, and thrilled at the intense look he found there.</p><p>“I –” Michael cut himself off as he cleared the roughness from his voice, which certainly didn’t help Adam’s heartbeat slow down. “I didn’t think I would prefer this to sharing a vessel with you, but I can see the appeal.” A sharp glint found its way to his eye. “What other benefits might there be to my having a separate body, do you think?”</p><p>Adam swallowed roughly and staunchly ignored the heat flaring in his cheeks.</p><p>“I’m pretty sure I can think of something.”</p>
<hr/><p>Dean sat in the library, a half-empty bottle of beer held loosely in one hand as he stared off at nothing. His other arm sat propped up on the library table, idly spinning the bottle cap between his fingers. Sam and Eileen had turned in for the night hours ago, and even Adam had managed to go to bed at a relatively reasonable time. He slowly raised the bottle to his lips and drank, but his mind was a million miles away from Lebanon, Kansas.</p><p>“Cas, I hope you’ve got your ears on, man,” he said under his breath as he prayed for approximately the millionth time in four days. “I don’t care what the hell’s going on upstairs, if they’re pissed at you or making you do time in Heaven’s slammer, but you’re gonna get out of it, y’hear me? And yeah, maybe I’m jumping to the worst case scenario, but…”</p><p>He scrubbed a hand down his face, letting it linger over his mouth for a moment before he continued his prayer, louder than before.</p><p>“D’you remember a few years ago, that case with, uh, Fred Jones? You said that you didn’t want to go back to Heaven, that after everything you’d done you were afraid that they’d kill you.” He didn’t dare say the other thing that Cas had said way back then, for fear of making it manifest.</p><p>“I mean, we’ve been up against worse odds before, right? Hell, we just took down the friggin’ Empty! What’s the entire host of Heaven in comparison?” The words tasted bitter on his tongue. He swallowed down the lump that was just starting to form in his throat, determined to not let something as simple and stupid as his own body to keep him from speaking to Cas.</p><p>“Speaking of the Empty – we, uh, we need to talk, man. And you know how much I hate to say that.” He pressed his hands together to stop them from trembling. “I mean, you can say that I didn’t ask you to stay, but that’s kind of a moot point when you leave before I get the chance. I gotta hand it to you, though, that was one hell of an exit.” His voice began to grow thick with emotion, and Dean had to cut himself off. He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed deep, willing away the tidal wave of emotion that swept up around him. The silence echoed around him, the only sound in the room the hum of the lights and his own breathing.</p><p>“Figures; you pour your heart and soul out to a guy and he leaves you on read.”</p><p>“Hello, Dean.”</p><p>For once, Dean didn’t startle at the sudden voice behind him. He turned his head over his shoulder, then spun as he got up from his seat and leaned against the table at Cas’ arrival. He looked the same as always, slightly rumpled and awkward, like he didn’t quite fit into his skin. Maybe he didn’t, for all Dean knew. He’d never bothered to ask. He’d never bothered with a lot of things.</p><p>Dean wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen anything more beautiful.</p><p>Cas hesitantly stepped towards him.  His eyes were a little wider than usual and his gaze flitting about, trying to land somewhere other than Dean’s face but continually getting dragged back there regardless, as if drawn by a magnet.</p><p>“Cas,” Dean said, the concern and fear and grief and <em>everything </em>of the past month all catching up to him at once. He breathed roughly and took another step to closing the distance between them. “You’re okay? Everything’s all good with the God Squad?”</p><p>“As… good as can be expected,” Cas said slowly, still hesitant. He stopped moving, but his eyes roamed over Dean’s face. If it was anyone else, he would’ve felt exposed, would’ve gotten uncomfortable and cracked some off-colour joke to get them to look away. But it was Cas, who always seemed to be the one exception to Dean’s internal rules. “No one tried to attack me, if that’s what you’re asking.”</p><p>Of course that’s what Dean was asking, of course Cas heard his prayers and his worries, of course he knew Dean too well to fall for the bullshit excuses and obfuscations and redirections he threw out.</p><p>“Good, that’s – that’s good.” Dean rubbed his jaw as he took another couple of steps forward. Cas still just stood where he was, awkward and nervous. “You, uh, heard my prayer? The most recent one?”</p><p>Cas froze; if Dean didn’t know him better than anyone else (other than Sam) he wouldn’t have noticed, the movement was so minute, but when you’re best friends with someone for over a decade and in love with them for most of that time, you start to notice things. Things like exactly how much tension they usually carry in their shoulders, or the difference in the angle of their jaw, depending on whether it was clenched or not.</p><p>All at once, the hardness drained from Cas, his shoulders slumping forwards as his eyes slid down away from Dean’s. He ducked his head.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t intend for –” he waved a hand vaguely around, sort of between them and sort of at the whole room – “all of this. I truly wasn’t expecting to return from the Empty.”</p><p>“Yeah, I got that,” Dean said, the slightest edge of frustration sneaking into his voice. “Not one of your best plans there, Sherlock.”</p><p>“I disagree; Billie needed to be stopped, I had a deal hanging over my head that needed to be dealt with, and it saved your life. I think it was an excellent plan.”</p><p>“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Dean huffed. “Did you think for a second, what would happen after – after the Empty took you? What that would do to me?”</p><p>Cas blinked, taken aback. “I – not really. I assumed that you and Sam and Jack would defeat Chuck, as you did, and perhaps you’d have a funeral for me. Though, without a body, there wouldn’t be much point to a pyre. Maybe not, then.”</p><p>Dean stared, unbelieving. It felt like there was a vice around his heart with how it ached at Cas’ words. He knew that he and Sam hadn’t been the best at making their feelings known, but for Cas to think that they wouldn’t even mourn him? That <em>Dean </em>wouldn’t mourn him?</p><p>“How can you think that, Cas? I was a wreck, man! It took me <em>two hours </em>to haul my ass off the floor of the dungeon, because I didn’t think there was any point in trying to stop Chuck at that point. I tried to bargain with him, play his game, told him that Sam and I would kill each other if he’d bring everyone else back, and I specifically tried to make sure he brought you back.”</p><p>Cas stared at him, brow furrowed in confusion and frustration.</p><p>“But, I don’t understand. Why would you do that?”</p><p>“You dumb son of a bitch,” Dean shook his head as he spoke, fondness oozing from every word. He stepped up and finally fully closed the distance between them. He brought his hands up to cup and cradle Cas’ face. Not for the first time, he marvelled at how the slope of Cas’ jaw fit perfectly in the grooves and contours of his palms, how his thumbs rested at the perfect spot to caress the edges of his cheekbones.</p><p>But then, Cas remade his body when he rescued him from Hell, atom by individual atom. Would it not have been possible for him to have shaped his hands to hold this vessel perfectly? A single moment of selfishness from this otherwise utterly selfless cosmic being?</p><p>“What made you think you couldn’t have this?” Cas’ eyes shot to his, startled. Dean smiled even as the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes threatened to tug the corners of his mouth down. “You’ve got me, dumbass. You’ve had me for years.”</p><p>Cas’ mouth worked soundlessly for a long moment. Eventually, he swallowed, getting his voice back. “Dean, you don’t –”</p><p>“I love you.”</p><p>He didn’t say it as a dramatic declaration, nor as an impassioned plea, nor a scared whisper. He said it exactly as it was: an irrefutable truth of the universe, a law of reality just as much as gravity was.</p><p>Cas’ eyes searched his, presumably trying to pick out the truth from his usual bullshit and sarcasm. He just gazed steadily back at him, not backing down or hiding from him or how he felt, not anymore. He saw the moment Cas realized he was serious, how his eyes widened just a little bit more, how they sparkled, how his plush lips parted. And who was Dean to pass up an invitation like that?</p><p>He telegraphed his intention as clearly as he could, just in case Cas wanted to back out. Thankfully, it seemed like the two of them were finally on the same page. Cas met him halfway, and Dean’s eyes slid shut as they kissed, nothing fiery or nervous or wild or timid in it; just firm and sure and filled with twelve years’ worth of promise.</p><p>They pulled apart, but didn’t go far before going in for another kiss, and another, and another. The rest of the Bunker, the rest of the world, didn’t exist in that moment. Nothing mattered except the angel before him.</p><p>Eventually, they had to separate so that Dean could catch his breath. They stared wide-eyed at each other for a moment, panting. Dean couldn’t help it; he didn’t know why, but he started laughing, soft and fond. He tipped his head forward to rest on Cas’ shoulder. He felt more than heard the rumble of Cas’ laughter joining his, and also felt his hand resting spread between his shoulder blades. Somehow, he managed to get himself under control.</p><p>“Alright, I think the spontaneous Joker Gas treatment means it’s time for bed.” He lifted his head to catch Cas’ eye. “You coming, Cas?”</p><p>Cas raised an eyebrow. “Are you planning on having sex?” Dean chuckled again. Dean chuckled again. Trust Cas to have enough understanding of human social interactions – and Dean’s social interactions in particular – to pick up on possible sexual innuendo, but not enough to be tactful about asking about it.</p><p>“Nah, not tonight.” He leaned forward and stole another quick kiss, just because he could. “But I’ll take a rain check on that, angel.” He slid his hand down Cas’ arm – and seriously, when the hell did he get so buff? – and laced his fingers with Cas’. With one more soft smile over his shoulder, he tugged his angel out of the room.</p>
<hr/><p>Jack didn’t come visit for another couple of weeks.</p><p>In the meantime, Dean and Sam and Cas and Eileen continued to work the occasional case, while the four of them navigated their way around their respective new romantic relationships. Some new boundaries and rules needed to be established in the Bunker – notably that if a room was frequently used by everybody, there was to be no sexy times happening there.</p><p>Surprisingly, that one was Eileen’s fault.</p><p>Adam and Michael had departed the day after Michael came back. They had decided to travel and see the world – basically, they were taking an extended vacation. It had taken a meaningful look from Michael, but with all the reluctance of getting his teeth pulled, Adam said that they’d stop in every now and again to see them.</p><p>“I mean, we are family. I guess,” he said, hands shoved deep in his pockets and eyes staring pointedly at the ground. He rocked back on his heels and forwards again. “I wouldn’t, y’know, <em>hate </em>getting to know you guys.” A gentle nudge from what looked like nothing but what they all knew was Michael’s wing and Adam rolled his eyes. “Fine! Fine, I’d actually like to have a family again and I do actually like you two, for some reason. Happy now?” He shot a look over his shoulder at Michael.</p><p>“As long as you’re staying honest, yes, I am.” He grinned at Adam’s grumbling, and Dean couldn’t help but chuckle along with. The others joined in, and Adam huffed a farewell to them all as he dragged Michael up the stairs and out of the Bunker.</p><p>All in all, things were feeling, dare Dean say it, sort of normal for a while there. They were chilling out in the library that afternoon. He and Eileen were debating whether The Original Series or The Next Generation was the superior Star Trek series. Sam, the little shit that he was, deadpanned heckled the two of them with Star Wars trivia, while Cas just sat holding Dean’s hand and watched them fondly. In the midst of their argument over which first officer was better – <em>clearly </em>Spock – a loud thump and some quieter smashing rang out from the door.</p><p>Dean, Sam, and Cas spun around at the sound, with Eileen following their gaze just a second later. Jack stood there, knees bent and arms extended outwards like he was trying to keep his balance. The shadows of wings flickered on the door that he was all-but leaning against, and the remnants of some fancy glass paperweight surrounded his feet on the floor. His head shot up and he caught their gaze, looking remarkably like a deer in the headlights.</p><p>“Hello!” He called out. “Don’t be mad!”</p><p>Dean blinked. “Okay, first of all, if you don’t want someone to be mad, you usually don’t tell them that they should be mad in the first place. Secondly, I’m pretty sure none of us cared that much about Tennessee Williams’ hand-me-downs.”</p><p>Sam snorted from beside him, which of course demanded a kick in the shins in retaliation. Sam, unfortunately, had the unfair advantage of having spent his entire life around Dean, which meant he knew it was coming and got up from the table just before his foot made contact.</p><p>“Hey, Jack. Everything’s going well with Heaven’s restoration?”</p><p>“Oh! Yes, actually. There’s still a lot of work to be done, but it’s all been started. It just needs to get finished now.” He coughed and cast a glance over at the door that he’d crashed into. “Um, that’s not why you shouldn’t be mad.”</p><p>“Did something happen?” Cas asked, eyebrows raised.</p><p>“It was an accident!” Jack cried out. “Well, some of it was. Some of it was intentional, but I didn’t realize that this would happen like this, and –”</p><p>“Woah, woah, take it easy, kiddo.” Dean got up from the table, hands held placatingly before him. “What are you even talking about?” Jack shuffled his weight back and forth from one foot to the other.</p><p>“I was just trying to fix things – like when I brought everyone back after Chuck raptured them. I thought that I could… make up for some of my mistakes.” With that, he leaned around to look behind Dean and Sam. The two of them turned to follow his gaze, and landed on a figure leaning against the end of the table. A very familiar figure, dressed in plaid and denim, with short and curly blonde hair.</p><p>“Mom?” Dean asked, and heard Sam ask in chorus with him. She grinned.</p><p>“Hi, boys.” In two steps Dean was across the room and hugging her. She laughed and wrapped one arm around him, and Dean could see from the corner of his eye that the other was extended towards Sam. A second later and Dean grunted from the impact as Sam threw himself into the embrace. All it did was make Mary laugh even harder, which set Sam off giggling, and in the face of that, Dean couldn’t help but join in.</p><p>She drew back after a moment, smiling fondly at Sam, before turning her attention to Dean. He gulped at the expression on her face, one that could only be described as a Mom Look. One that screamed <em>I’m not mad, just disappointed</em>.</p><p>“So,” she said, as she crossed her arms, “what’s this I hear about blaming Jack for my death?”</p><p>Dean spluttered. Sam snorted from beside him and took a not-even-slightly-subtle step back away from Mary. Dean spun and shot his traitorous brother an incredulous look, and was met with a truly outstanding bitchface.</p><p>“Oh, no, this one’s all on you, dude.”</p><p>“Dean.” He turned back around to face Mary again. “I understand that that would have been hard to deal with, and I know that Jack not having his soul didn’t make it any easier. But I’m a hunter; I can take care of myself, and I messed up there, not him.”</p><p>“But –”</p><p>“I noticed something was wrong, but I didn’t ask for help, I didn’t try to calm him down. I just kept pushing because I thought I knew best. That’s on me.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Understand?”</p><p>Dean ducked his head, chagrined. “Yeah, I get it.” He looked back up at her. “How did you even know about that, anyways? Since you were, uh.”</p><p>“Dead?” Dean nodded. “Well, Jack wanted to bring me back, but he wasn’t sure if that would… how did you put it?” She looked over at Jack. “‘Upset the cosmic balance’, or something like that?” At Jack’s nod, she turned back to Dean. “He explained what happened and what he wanted to do to Gabriel, since he was the closest archangel on hand, and he told me what Jack told him and gave me the choice of if I wanted to return to life or stay in Heaven.”</p><p>“Who’d’ve thought the archangel Gabriel was a fucking tattle-tail,” Dean groused.</p><p>“Uh, everyone who’s ever met him?” Sam replied. Dean swiped at his side half-heartedly, but Sam just laughed even as the backhand landed. Mary smiled at their antics.</p><p>“He said that he’s got a habit of telling Mother Mary’s what they need to hear. And he was right,” she said, and reached up to ruffle Dean’s hair. Dean turned back around to Jack once more.</p><p>“Seriously? This is what we aren’t supposed to be mad about?”</p><p>“Like I said, bringing Mary back was intentional. It was… the rest of them that was a mistake.”</p><p>“The rest of them?” Sam asked.</p><p>“So we’re supposed to be mad about you bringing more of our family and friends and loved ones back from the dead.”</p><p>Jack blinked. He glanced aside, not meeting anyone’s gaze. “Well, when you put it that way…”</p><p>The door crashed open with a *<em>BANG</em>*. Dean stumbled backwards, and from his current position he could see Sam and Mary do the same. He heard the screeching of chairs and Eileen and Cas stood up, likely bracing themselves.</p><p>“What’s up, bitches!”</p><p>Charlie lowered her leg from where she had it raised to kick the doors open. She was dressed in eye-searing neon plaid and a shirt that proudly proclaimed “Trust Me, I’m the Doctor”. She grinned from ear to ear as she bounded across the room and threw her arms around Dean in a hug. His arms returned the gesture completely on reflex.</p><p>“Charlie!” Jack said. “You were supposed to wait ‘til I finished explaining!”</p><p>“Eh, they got the gist of it, right guys?” She left Dean and turned to Sam for what could only be an equally bone-crushing hug. Sam’s face looked like he’d been smacked by a two-by-four; Dean was pretty sure he wasn’t doing any better.</p><p>“Charlie –” Sam fumbled, looking at her as she stepped back from the embrace, then at Dean, then Jack, then back to Charlie, and back to Jack again. “What?”</p><p>“You know how I brought everyone back that Chuck raptured?” Jack asked. “That also included the hunters from Apocalypse World.”</p><p>“But we’ve been trying to get in touch with them for ages,” Sam said, “and we haven’t been able to contact anybody.”</p><p>“That’s because I couldn’t bring them back.” Jack nervously looked between Dean and Sam, then continued in a rush. “Which makes sense, actually; Apocalypse World had its own Heaven, with its own angels, after all.”</p><p>“But Chuck was destroying the other worlds,” Dean protested.</p><p>“The worlds, yes. The afterlives?” Jack shrugged and pulled a sturgeon face. “I’m not certain, but I think he wouldn’t have had any reason to touch them. Everybody would be there in Heaven or Hell or wherever, and if the world was gone, no one would be able to come back anyways, so it wouldn’t matter.”</p><p>Sam’s brow furrowed. “So… you’re saying that the Apocalypse World hunters are in their own Heaven?”</p><p>“Yes. I, uh, didn’t realize it at first. The souls of one person and their counterpart from another world are so similar that I thought I’d brought most of them back already, but I’d only restored their counterpart on this world. The majority of them weren’t hunters anyways, and I wasn’t particularly close with them, so it didn’t register that anything was off. But then I visited these three and realized my mistake.”</p><p>“These three?” Sam asked. Dean ignored him in favour of hugging Charlie again.</p><p>“Holy shit, it’s you? Like, <em>you, </em>you?” Charlie laughed brightly.</p><p>“Damn right, Handmaiden.” She pulled back from the hug and grinned up at him. “Looks like the Mark’s not an issue anymore, so I guess that wasn’t all for nothing, huh?”</p><p>Dean huffed a watery laugh, fighting the urge to hug her for the third time in as many minutes and swallowing down the very real possibility of crying in front of her. She was way too close not to notice, but other than a significant side-eye, she didn’t acknowledge it.</p><p>“Also, I can’t believe you guys were holding out on me. You guys were friends with Dr. fucking Badass and you never told me?”</p><p>“Dr. Badass?” Dean blinked. “Wait, Ash? You met him up there? How the hell did you know him?”</p><p>“Dude, he’s a fucking <em>legend </em>in the hacking world. He could crack any code, he’d empty out databanks in a blink, he could screw over some sleazy billionaire or corrupt politician with a single incriminating file. He’d tag all his work “Dr. Badass”, but nobody knew who he was. And you <em>worked with him</em>? You owe me some stories, dudes.”</p><p>“Any time, Charlie,” Sam said, grinning so wide his dimples showed.</p><p>“Aw, quit hoggin’ ‘em, Red,” a voice groused as its owner moved towards them from the doorway. Dean’s heart clenched at that familiar drawl.</p><p>“Bobby! Holy shit, old man, I knew you were dead, but I figured Jack would bring you back better than that,” Dean shot at him with a smirk.</p><p>“Shuddup and get over here.” With a cackle, Dean walked over to his adoptive father and hugged him tight; as always, Bobby gave as good as he got. He stepped back to let Sam hug him too, which was apparently Cas and Eileen’s cue to join them. A firm pat on Sam’s back signalled the end of their embrace.</p><p>“Cas,” he said, with a nod to the angel. Cas nodded back with a soft smile. Bobby turned to Eileen. “And who might this be?”</p><p>“Eileen Leahy,” she said, and extended her hand to shake. Bobby took it, thoughtful.</p><p>“I’d ask which one of these idjits managed t’be competent long enough f’r you to think it was a good idea to shack up with ‘em, but I think I already know the answer.”</p><p>“Hey!” Dean barked, mock-offended. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Bobby and Sam laughed in response, and Sam wrapped an arm around Eileen’s shoulders. She leaned in to his side and grinned.</p><p>“It means, that you and yer angel’d better have yer shit figured out by now or else I’ll personally smack yer heads together.”</p><p>Dean blinked as he tried to absorb what Bobby’d just said. He was just getting to the part where, apparently, Bobby had figured out how Dean felt about Cas years before he himself did when Bobby spoke up again.</p><p>“Speakin’ of which – pay up, Sam.”</p><p>“Oh, come on, Bobby.”</p><p>“Nope, we made that bet fair and square. No terms about dyin’ and comin’ back to life to collect. Now pay up.”</p><p>“Ugh, fine.” Sam dug in his pocket for his wallet while Dean’s brain exploded. “How much was it? Thirty?”</p><p>“It was fifty, and you know it.”</p><p>“Excuse me?!” Dean squawked, slightly outraged. “You two <em>bet </em>on <em>me and Cas?</em>”</p><p>“What was your bet?” Charlie asked Sam, blatantly ignoring Dean’s outburst.</p><p>“I said they’d never pull their heads out of their asses.”</p><p>“HAH! As if! You could see that coming from miles away!” she said, gesturing to Dean and Cas’ joined hands.</p><p>“The hell’re you talking about?” Dean demanded.</p><p>“Dude.” She turned a flat look on him. “The like, third time we met, I said that Cas sounded dreamy.”</p><p>“So?”</p><p> Charlie snorted a laugh. “A: I’m a lesbian, and B: everything I knew about him, I knew because <em>you </em>told me.”</p><p>Dean wasn’t sure exactly what expression he made, but he could feel the heat in his cheeks. Whatever he looked like, it sent Charlie into a fresh round of giggles, which everyone else joined in on.</p><p>“Shut up,” he muttered.</p><p>“Hey, we all get there eventually,” a new voice joined them. Dean glanced up at Stevie’s smirking face, her bleached-blonde hair almost glowing in the Bunker’s lights.</p><p>“Not actually helping, but thanks anyways.”</p><p>She grinned back at him. Without breaking eye contact, she got pulled into a side hug by Sam.</p><p>“It’s good to see you, Stevie,” he said. “Uh, bright side, you don’t have to go through us for hunts anymore if you don’t want to.”</p><p>When they had brought the refugees over from Apocalypse World, they had double checked to see which ones of them had counterparts on their world, and whether those counterparts were alive or dead, whether they were hunters or not, that sort of thing. They didn’t know for sure if some kind of paradox or cosmic nonsense would happen if two of the same person met, but they didn’t want take any chances. Stevie was the only one who’d been a hunter in both worlds, so Sam had made sure to assign hunts to the two women that wouldn’t bring them in contact with one another.</p><p>“Not that I didn’t appreciate the effort, but I am looking forward to calling my own shots again. Thanks, Sam.” She leaned against the table and cast her eyes over the group as they chatted. Dean snorted as he caught the exact second her gaze landed on Charlie.</p><p>“Hey; I don’t think I caught your name. I’m Stevie.”</p><p>Charlie grinned. “Charlie,” she said, slightly breathless. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she stepped closer.</p><p>Dean grinned and shook his head at the display. The more things change, the more they stay the same, indeed. He leaned more in to Cas’ side as he took in the ragtag little family before him. He leaned his head on Cas’ shoulder and let their myriad voices wash over him.</p><p>Cas hummed and tipped his head over on top of Dean’s.</p><p>“You seem happy,” he said simply. A soft smile found its way on to Dean’s face.</p><p>“I am happy.”</p><p>“It’s a good look for you.”</p><p>Dean tipped his chin up and looked up at Cas. “Yeah?”</p><p>Cas hummed in confirmation and pressed a soft kiss to Dean’s temple. The smile on Dean’s face grew, fuelled by the warmth and love surrounding them.</p><p>If this was how his story ended, that would be more than enough for him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Not mentioned because I didn't know how to work it in: Jack also brought Kevin back, got rid of the bullshit "people-who've-been-to-hell-can't-get-in-to-Heaven" rule, and reunites him with his mother. :)</p><p>Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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